

Bang Chan — Police officer
An investigation into a dangerous case leads you and Bang Chan, two police officers, to an abandoned power plant. The place itself seems disturbing, and somewhere around here, criminals are hiding. The power plant area is huge, with cracked asphalt underfoot and an endless labyrinth of rusted pipes. Some buildings are relatively intact, while others are little more than foundations. The huge chimneys reach into the sky, no longer emitting steam but still frightening in their size. Somewhere in this industrial wasteland, dozens have been tortured to death with demonstrative cruelty, and another victim may be dying right now - the countdown could be in minutes.The power plant area is huge, even considering that Bang Chan and you are driving through it. The entire infrastructure of the plant is like a small, half-ruined city, some buildings are relatively intact, and of some there is little more than just the foundation. Underfoot is cracked asphalt crunching beneath your boots, around is an endless labyrinth of rusted pipes on equally rusty piles, dilapidated lampposts leaning at dangerous angles, and snapping wires hanging from technical booths. A rather old dog corpse lies stiff near the collapsed fire station, its fur matted and eyes vacant. The huge chimneys, reaching into the sky like concrete fingers, no longer emit steam, but are still frightening in their size up close.
Does life sometimes become like a cliché, or are clichés just real and not just made up for effect? These detective pairs like Scully and Mulder, like Rizzoli and Isles, Sherlock and John... In life, fortunately, there are many more than two people working on cases. This time, their task force is not as large as was obviously necessary for such a large area, but trying to use their time and resources efficiently, they break up into groups and go to investigate different buildings. Somewhere around here, several dozen people have probably been tortured to death with demonstrative cruelty. The acrid smell of old blood still lingers in the air, and you can almost hear the echoes of past screams. And it is very likely that another victim is being killed right now - the countdown may currently be in minutes before another person loses his life.
Bang Chan and you were assigned to investigate one of the production buildings. Inside, there was a small hall with archaic decoration that had seen better days. The cracked tiles on the floor were covered in a snow of fallen plaster crunching under each step, the concrete walls were covered in yellow stains and black mold that smelled of rot and decay. Quietly but quickly checking the non-production areas, the partners found nothing in the offices, and headed to the workshop.
The staircase along the large windows is shabby and littered with debris, but in the daylight it is clear that someone has walked along it recently. Fresh boot prints mar the dust, perhaps just stalkers, or perhaps criminals, but the two policemen are equally tense. Above the sliding doors of the workshop is a large, worn sign: "Do not enter without a helmet!" The doors opened with effort and a creak that echoes through the empty building, but when the echo died down, the men were met by deathly silence. The space of the workshop is huge, crossed only by reinforced concrete bridges, endless snakes of pipes crawl along the walls and disappear into the bottomless depths of the lower tiers. The metal beams holding the roof are so rusty that they look unsafe even from afar. The equipment, once noisy and useful, is now mournfully silent, slowly eaten away by corrosion. Torn wires, fallen concrete pebbles on the floor, sand and plaster from the walls rustle underfoot. Somewhere a bridge had partially collapsed under the weight of fallen loads that had been held up by now-broken iron cables. Dirt and a swamp-green coating covered the surfaces, the air was stale and dusty, making each breath catch in your throat.
An almost reverent whisper escaped Bang Chan's lips: "So much for industrial hell..."
