The Refugee District, Daffodil Street.
At eight in the morning, the massive procession had already begun making its way toward the urban center of Night Spirit City.
Night Spirit City covered an enormous area. At their current pace, the marchers would need at least another eight hours to reach the Administrative Center.
The long journey, coupled with the patrols deliberately making things difficult, was undoubtedly a grueling ordeal for these refugees.
However, thanks to some deliberate planning behind the scenes, they had secured commercial sponsorships and a permit to march.
At first, there hadn't been many people. But as some handed out free food and water, others distributed advertisements and pamphlets, some shouted slogans, and others demanded human rights...
Gradually, the procession, which had originally numbered only a hundred or so, grew larger and larger.
As though answering a call, the refugees living along the streets and alleys of the Refugee District pushed open their doors. Some wore ragged clothes, others walked with faltering steps, and they gradually converged like streams.
The streams became a river.
They hoped this march would make those above hear their voices. They wanted better living conditions, clean water, steady work, lighter taxes, health insurance, and more.
The refugees had been stifled for far too long.
With someone taking the lead, the march quietly and swiftly grew into a striking spectacle, and the sentiment behind it would continue to spread.
It would spread to the other cities under Sky City's jurisdiction, and to the Disaster Zone outside.
"Do not use force!"
"Everyone, please remember why we're here! Our goal is better living conditions!"
Holding a megaphone, Anderson kept maintaining order and waving the placard in his hand.
Beside him, his friends Dusha and Owen were helping too.
Although they were descendants of nobles, they always