Outer City, above an unnamed ditch.
"Tell me, have those lords up in the Alliance really grown a conscience this time?"
A huge printed portrait hung on the wall. Meng Huai'an stood with one arm raised, shouting. Even as a lifeless image, it could not conceal the resolve in her eyes.
Below it, written in bold strokes of heavy ink, were gleaming gilded words:
'Everyone can change. The opportunity is now.'
The black-robed cultivator spat disdainfully. His cultivation seemed far from weak, yet not a trace of the immortal poise and lofty bearing people imagined traditional cultivators possessed could be seen in his conduct.
"Heyang City may indeed be where miracles are born, but if a miracle is to descend, it will only descend upon true Heyang City people. Those young fools below have truly lost their minds. Do they really think that by following the wishes of those traitors in the Inner City and obediently listening to the Alliance lords, they can transform themselves into Inner City people?"
"If you ask me, strength is the only thing one can rely on to survive in Heyang City. Cultivators do not focus on cultivation, instead placing their hopes in such crooked paths and wicked ways. I do not even know whether we are the demonic cultivators, or those people are."
The cultivator speaking seemed deeply dissatisfied, but the black-robed cultivator opposite him, whose figure was likewise concealed, showed no intention of paying him any heed.
"What are you spacing out for? Are we cooperating or not? Give me a straight answer. The Alliance lords went to great lengths to forcibly haul off the people causing the worst trouble to build railways. Now the Outer City is a dragon without a head. If you and I join hands and seize a patch