Ah, humid heat. Now this was nostalgic. His lungs drowned gradually with every breath, and his hair stuck to his inflamed cheeks, the heat that accompanied the moist vapours such that even in the shadow of the research facility, one could not escape that pervasive warmth. Xuan-Yu rolled his shoulders back as he scanned about, coming to the same conclusion as Dulac: nothing hostile, nothing yet. He stepped over the virulent roots and the foliage, imprints in the moss and grass the only sign of his passing, before bounding gracefully over the receptionist's desk.
It had only been a handful of years. Though humidity, vermin, and vegetation could do work enough to destroy any chance one would have of recovering the electronics on the ground floor of the building, perhaps there were documents within the cabinets. A map of the place would be a start, certainly. Maybe keys left behind, so they didn't have to bust down any doors unnecessarily.