Kevin lowered his head and glanced at the blood from his nose on the web between his thumb and index finger. Bracing himself against the damp wall, he made his way toward the alley entrance.
He had been beaten because he had no money.
Every tourist believed this place was paradise within several light-years, but only the people who lived here knew that it was actually hell—the hell of ordinary people.
Even the most ordinary tourist, as long as they had the means and wealth to travel between stars, was not ordinary at all.
The truly ordinary people would never have the chance to leave their planet in their entire lives. This had nothing to do with the development of science and technology.
It was like... cutting-edge medical technology could already cure every disease except genetic collapse. So why were some people still suffering and even dying because they could not receive treatment? To put it bluntly, it was not that the hospitals could not relieve the torment caused by their illnesses. It was that their shriveled wallets could not save them.
Someone would always tell you that life was priceless, but in the hospital, on the operating table, they would give you an exact price.
If you possessed wealth equal to the value of your life, then you were lucky. You would survive.
If you could not produce enough money to match your priceless life, then unfortunately, you would most likely die.
From another perspective, life truly was priceless.
Kevin was one of the ordinary people living here. Every day, he had only four hours to rest, and he spent nearly all the remaining time working.
In the morning, he worked as an insurance and financial-services salesman, recommending the various insurance and financial products that practically screamed "scam" to