Someone had declared that they could deal with aliens—or even gods.
The old man standing before Lin Qi suddenly burst out laughing, and some of the others gradually began laughing as well.
Not everyone liked Lin Qi.
Unlike the Lower-Middle Class, who liked Lin Qi, the only people in the Upper Class who liked him were those whose interests were deeply tied to his.
Aside from those people, no one liked Lin Qi.
He was... difficult to describe. He was not the sort of person who played by the rules.
His grandfather had not unconditionally pledged his loyalty to the capitalists just to become Middle Class. When necessary, he had even gone bankrupt to safeguard the capitalists' interests.
His grandfather had been nothing more than an ordinary worker. He had spent his entire life on an assembly line and had never done anything else.
Among the few things he had done in his life that could make the capitalists happy, aside from buying a house and purchasing ordinary goods, there was nothing worth mentioning.
His father was not the sort of person who could provide the capitalists with huge profits, either. He was also a worker, waving tools on an assembly line and placing his sweat on one end of a scale to exchange for wealth on the other end that was clearly not equivalent.
Neither of them had ever offered the capitalists anything, from beginning to end.
By rights, Lin Qi should have become that kind of person, too. After graduating from high school, he would struggle unwillingly before eventually submitting to fate, then choose a factory where Neil worked and labor on the same assembly line.
The father and son would save ten years' worth of wages, allowing Lin Qi to buy a house in the Lower District