[The Deep Slums — The Warehouse]
The group of four men led Regina deeper into the decaying heart of the slums, where the streetlights were all smashed and the air smelled of wet ash. They stopped in front of a monolithic, rusted warehouse that looked more like a tomb than a building.
"As I told you on the way," the muscular man said, lowering his gaze to her. His voice had lost its earlier warmth, replaced by a cold, transactional tone.
"You will meet some kids in there. They are sick, so they'll say anything to you... Don't believe their nonsense, ok?"
Regina, clutching her gold coins and her bread, nodded her head obediently. The slim man stepped forward and pulled the heavy iron door open wide for her, the hinges screaming in protest.
"You can go inside now," he said.
