A Day in Theus's Life

When Theus opened his eyes, he found himself lying in bed.

The sheets had been produced by Castel No. 2 Textile Factory. Though they were nowhere near as smooth as silk, Theus liked them very much.

Yawning as he got to his feet, Theus casually pulled open the curtains, and the morning sunlight instantly flooded the room.

Theus squinted and hurriedly pulled the curtains back halfway. Only then did the sunlight become less glaring, and he looked out the window.

The gentle sea breeze stirred the curtains. Several seagulls swept past the window, circled above the cargo ships in the harbor a few times, then dove toward the students heading to class in the dock district, snatching a French fry and drawing a chorus of curses.

Downstairs, a squad of Mystic Society night watchmen had just finished their shift and were heading toward the fish-and-chips shop. Petite Bettis, wearing an apron, was lowering fish into the fryer.

She stood on a copy of the Holy Scripture—she had originally needed four of them to stand on, but over the past year, she had grown two centimeters taller, while the Holy Scripture had become three times thicker.

Beside the fish-and-chips shop, banshees hawked newspapers along the street. Workers passed Faithguard Army soldiers, smiling as they exchanged greetings. Not long ago, they had still been sitting in the same classrooms, racking their brains over their studies.

Theus raised his gaze. All across Blood Port, people were hard at work. Chimneys rose one after another, factories connected to factories, railways to railways.

This, too, had become an industrial city.

"How wonderful."

Even though he saw it every day, Theus still felt sincerely happy whenever he looked at it.

In his previous life, these things had been utterly ordinary—perhaps even backward production capacity that polluted