Withering Mist Calendar, February 11th, Year 157. Base City No. 181, Special Affairs Bureau.
"Hey, get up! Playing dead?"
Slap! Slap!
Ji Xuan stirred awake from his sleep, only for a twisted face to abruptly fill his vision.
The moment he recognized the person before him, he jolted fully awake. Ignoring his stinging, swollen cheek, he hurriedly apologized, "Sorry, Supervisor Wang, I—"
"Dozing off during work hours. Fifty deducted!"
The man in a supervisor's uniform made two strokes in the notebook in his hand, then swaggered away.
Watching his retreating back, Ji Xuan could not help clenching his fists, but could only sigh helplessly.
Fifteen hours!
He had worked fifteen hours straight. How could he possibly not get sleepy?
Ji Xuan looked around. His coworkers all avoided his gaze, their eyes half-open as they continued working.
There were still three hours until the end of the shift. He had worked here for two years, yet he still could not adapt to this level of intensity. His body was worn down terribly.
Base City No. 181 was unlike the other exile base cities. It had been established for decades and already housed quite a few ordinary people, most of them descendants of the earliest residents.
But here, even basic necessities were expensive, while jobs suitable for ordinary people were painfully scarce.
A place like the Special Affairs Bureau was already the best destination. At the very least, it did not carry the greatest possibility of death.
Unlike proper base cities, the Special Affairs Bureau here was controlled by the gangs that held dominion over the region, so naturally, they squeezed their workers dry.
Eighteen working hours a day, a salary of only one hundred and fifty, and not a single day off all year.
At that thought, Ji Xuan could not