Chapter 173 Their Slut

• The barracks shower room was older than half the men who used it, with pipes that groaned when the hot water kicked in, and concrete floors worn smooth in the centre from decades of boots and bare feet.
• Moon stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him. The air was so dense with steam he could barely see across the room, shapes moving behind the white curtain of vapour, the slap of water on tile and the inaudible murmur of voices somewhere deeper in the mist.
• His towel hung loose around his hips, already damp from the humidity, and the concrete was cold against his bare feet.