London time, 6:57 a.m.
The humming, dull roar accompanied the silver-black elevator doors slowly opening to the sides.
From beneath the brim of the Supervisor's cap, Ke Mingye slowly opened his calm eyes. To keep up appearances for the cameras, he reached down to make sure his electric baton was fastened at his waist, then stepped out of the chilly elevator into the fifth level of the C wing of Bedlam Asylum.
A ray of light shooting from the elevator cabin pierced through the silence and darkness like a burst of sunlight into the deep sea.
Immediately, malicious curses broke the dark, briefly illuminating the scenery within each cell as the patients woke, turning their heads to gaze toward the source of light, envisioning the tall Supervisor's shadow elongated by the elevator's light and how they might tear him limb from limb.
In the spacious and dim corridor, Ke Mingye's footsteps were exceptionally clear, like the clapping of wooden blocks.
