On the wasteland, a settlement of more than five hundred thousand people was enormous, but when all was said and done, it was only five hundred thousand people. In Triumph City or Utopia City, unrest involving a few thousand people would have amounted to little more than a sneeze.
But in Boulder City, plagued by deep-rooted problems for so long, that sneeze became the fuse that ignited every crisis, nearly blowing out its front teeth...
At noon the next day, Alec, the head of security for Vega Trading Firm, rubbed his reddened bulbous nose and crawled out from a mountain of empty bottles.
Sometimes, he felt that he was an Awakened too, just not very obviously so. Once, when he had accompanied his boss to the northern suburbs and sat in the lobby of a Highway Town inn, he had clearly seen those Blue Coats claiming to be Awakened get wasted after five or six bottles, while he himself was truly capable of drinking a thousand cups without falling.
That was precisely why his boss always kept him close.
On the one hand, he was big enough to intimidate those malnourished workers. On the other, his drinking capacity was indispensable entertainment at parties. Once the boss and his mistress had laughed themselves into each other's arms, he would tactfully get drunk.
Shaking his groggy head, Alec picked up the clothes tossed aside and stretched his stiff neck, preparing to return to the factory and continue sleeping. But the private room door suddenly slammed open, and a disheveled Vega rushed in, followed by his expressionless secretary, Aaron.
"Fuck, are you a pig? How can you still be sleeping at a time like this?!"
Seeing his boss's expression, Alec immediately realized something was wrong. Ignoring his splitting headache, he hurriedly asked,
"Boss,