Clang, clang, clang.
Sifa heard the steady rhythm of hammering and felt the scorching heat. Instinctively, he raised a hand and wiped his forehead.
Then he saw the bright furnace fire, a dark anvil, numerous unfinished iron blanks, a chimney leading up to the roof, and a dog lying by the door, tethered with an iron chain.
Next, Sifa picked up a pair of tongs, gripped a length of red-hot iron, and placed it on the anvil. He took up a hammer and struck it again and again, repeatedly hammering it into shape.
As the iron gradually lost its glow and cooled too much to work, Sifa fed it back into the furnace to heat it again.
Just then, he heard the door being pushed open, followed by someone clearing his throat. "How is the item our master commissioned coming along?"
Sifa turned and saw a man dressed like a butler enter. He held a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, as though a single breath of the air inside would suffocate him.
Sifa heard himself say, "Almost finished, sir. It will be ready for delivery tomorrow."
"Then bring it over tomorrow morning." With that, the butler turned and left, unwilling to stay even a second longer.
After a moment of disorientation, Sifa saw himself put on a cheap suit, pick up a box, and leave the room.
He hurried down the stairs and emerged from a gloomy apartment building, stepping onto muddy ground. Filthy water flowed everywhere, rubbish lay scattered about, and livestock droppings were everywhere he looked.
The street was bustling, with itinerant vendors selling vegetables, fruit, and cooked food everywhere. But the passersby were all in a hurry, and few were willing to stop and buy anything.
Stench and enticing aromas mingled into a strange smell that