The elevator doors opened, and a tide of noise flooded in, accompanied by billowing black smoke.
Bi Fang coughed twice, and as the black smoke cleared, he stared at the office in astonishment. To those in the know, it was Yao Jun's office, but to the unknowing, it might have seemed like the entrance to a rock band's recording studio during a fire.
Yao Jun set down his wrench, leaned against the wall to turn on the light. There was no Vanguard Band, just an antique engine roaring loudly, its chains and gears clicking together like the interlocking teeth of a skeleton, continuously emitting thick smoke, like a dark steed from Hell.
Bang!
A crisp cracking sound erupted.
Bi Fang dodged the flying part that had apparently long been plotting its escape, which flew past and left a shallow dent on the gray-white wall. Annoyed, Bi Fang kicked a wrench off the floor and said, "Where did you dig up this old relic? Are you planning to drive it in an off-road race or something?"