Stepping out of the corridor, a basement almost the size of a bedroom appeared before them. There were no household utensils in sight, only a few small wooden boxes surrounding a larger one, serving as makeshift tables and chairs.
An oil lamp lay on the ground, dozens of dirty playing cards scattered around the wooden boxes.
Besides the passage and a small area for resting, the other spaces in the secret chamber were filled with wooden crates.
Winters surveyed the inside of the hidden cellar and thought that instead of calling it the "fox's den," it was more like a "fox's storeroom."
"Pry them open," Winters ordered with some disappointment, arms crossed. "What kind of things need to be hidden in a place like this?"
The first crate, empty.
The second crate, also empty.
The third crate, still empty.
The guard moving the crates became impatient, his movements increasingly rough.
