Holy Salt City was not particularly large, but even a small city was still one of the few Shelters left in the Ameli Kingdom, and it housed a great many people. Finding Weimar, Joseph, and the others from the Clapp family among them would not be easy.
If Pan Long had held some official position, he could have asked the Shelter's administrators to check the Census Records. But there had long been no such thing as an "official" authority in this age. Each Shelter ran its own affairs. Beyond a basic measure of respect, they no longer cooperated.
Even administrators from another Shelter would have no way to check Holy Salt City's Census Records.
Pan Long even suspected that Holy Salt City itself might not have detailed, accurate Census Records.
The Calamity still spread across the Ameli Kingdom, and people moved or died all the time. Under such circumstances, what was the point of keeping detailed, accurate Census Records?
Pondering these questions, he found a tavern.
Humanity's craving for Wine and good food would never disappear, no matter the age. Supplies might be scarce in the Shelters, and people might live without knowing whether they would survive the day, but taverns still did a roaring trade.
Perhaps life was so hard that people needed affordable pleasures all the more, if only to soothe their aching hearts.
When Pan Long stepped inside, he was greeted by a smoky, foul-smelling haze. It was broad daylight, yet the tavern was more than half full. Nearly everyone had Wine before them, and many were already bleary-eyed and rambling. Some boasted, some complained, some reminisced, and some cursed. At many tables, two people chatted away with great enthusiasm about subjects that had nothing to do with each other. Pan Long even suspected they were complete