"Dear listeners, this is your dearest Mr. House! It finally snowed today. Praise the first snow of the year—don't you think it looks like a dancing maiden? Though it's been a warm winter, don't forget to put on an extra layer when admiring the snow. I sincerely wish all my listeners good health."
"Also, for everyone's health, and to keep diabetes and obesity at bay, Vega Trading Firm's Good Taste Food Processing Plant has expanded its product line with a healthier, more nutritious, and better-tasting nutritional paste. You'll soon see it on the shelves—"
The oily, ducklike voice drifted through the sparse foot traffic, echoing over and over along the streets, blowing from bustling districts into shabby, chaotic, overcrowded alleys.
Sberg shut the patched-up wooden window, blocking out a little more of that voice carried by the wind and snow. Then he breathed into his hands and rubbed his frozen fingers before taking a letter, warmed against his chest, from his pocket.
These past few days, he had gone to wander around near The Alliance's embassy every day.
He had not held out much hope, but to his surprise, the Survivor Daily had really written back!
He pulled a sheet of white paper from the clean, neat envelope. A chip slipped out after it and clattered onto the table, startling Sberg.
Especially when he saw its denomination of 100, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
One hundred chips!
He worked himself to the bone on the assembly line and only earned 120 chips in a month!
This month, they had even paid him with an IOU!
The Alliance's newspaper office was unbelievably generous!
Carefully hiding the chip in the drawer of the wooden table, Sberg swallowed excitedly and eagerly unfolded the white letter.
The handwriting on it was