Heavy rain hammered against the doors and windows of the library Gathering Point, a ceaseless POUNDING and RATTLING.
The dozens of survivors here were gathered together, each wearing the protective gear sent by the Emergency Management Bureau. Although the gear was only standard-grade, it was better than nothing.
After putting on their gas masks, the people had been silent for a long time.
And unlike places with many individual rooms, like a hotel or hospital, the library didn't offer private spaces. Everyone had to congregate in the main halls on the first and second floors.
Fortunately, the one thing this place didn't lack was books. Everyone held a book or scrolled through their phone to pass the time.
In a corner of the second-floor hall, a young father and son sat together. The father, not yet forty, and his son, who looked to be around ten years old, were reading a book together.
