Bab 85: The Table Has Turned

In the cover of the night, a large truck rumbled stealthily through the dimly lit streets of District Nine, its tires rolling over the cracked and worn pavement with a low rumble. 

The darkness served as its cloak, concealing its presence as it made its way toward the extreme end of the district.

The truck's darkened exterior blended seamlessly with the shadows, its windows tinted to prevent any prying eyes from glimpsing its contents. 

Its headlights were dimmed, casting a faint glow that barely pierced through the night's obscurity.

As it ventured deeper into the heart of District Nine, the surroundings grew more desolate, with abandoned buildings and neglected structures standing like silent sentinels. 

The air was thick with an aura of uncertainty and danger, as if the night itself held secrets that it was unwilling to reveal.

The truck's occupants remained shrouded in anonymity, their intentions concealed behind closed doors.