第二章 咸鱼也想起飞

老赵 stifled a cigarette but smoke still escaped from the corner of his mouth. He watched the iron gate through a small gap in the window, the rust on it looking like something left by time itself. For three years and seven days, he'd been living behind this gate, viewing the outside world through whatever scraps of information the patrol队 fed him. The patrol队 did their job, but they didn't know everything. They brought updates about any sightings, rumors, and the occasional piece of technology half-buried in the dirt. But none of it was as clear as what he'd seen inside the gate. "Hey, Zhao," a voice called from behind him, breaking his thoughts. "Shift change in an hour. Detail's still active, but chief's breathing down our necks." 老赵 sighed, flicking his cigarette into a can someone had left out earlier. "Fine, whatever. Just don't stand in my way when I make my rounds." He stretched, rolling his shoulders, always feeling tight after too long inside.