Lao Bao and the others transferred from the bus to the subway. The moment they entered through the station entrance, the light dimmed.
People moved back and forth through the flickering downward passageway, occasionally having to detour around collapsed sections.
The subway system of East 725 District was, on the whole, a remnant from before the Third War. After the war, the population had shrunk by two-thirds, leaving neither the need nor the means to support any major infrastructure projects. Fifty years after the war and nearly forty years under colonial rule, people were essentially just clearing, digging through, and patching up the ruins.
Of course, there were also some newly built places said to reflect the standards of interstellar civilization, such as the Blood Moon Hook. But what did any of that have to do with ordinary people?
On the way, Lao Bao and the others encountered streams of people converging from other subway entrances. Most were office workers, and nearly all were decently dressed. Jobs in the city center were generally still respectable, and everyone's circumstances were relatively good.
As for those unable to find work, there were some in this passageway as well. They were the homeless people curled up along the edges and in the corners, either sleeping soundly or staring at them with open eyes.
These people could be considered lucky. They had slipped into a gap not yet covered by the Security Team and Joint Defense Team, allowing them to catch a little sleep here. But soon, when the next shift came on duty, they would be driven out to wander the vast suburban areas beneath the Blood Moon Hook, scavenging for food and looking for work... whether legal or illegal.
Amid the crowd, Lao Bao yawned, his gaze sweeping over the homeless on