life copy game

Chapter 1750 Nighttime Firelight (Long Chapter, Requesting Monthly Tickets)

The group wasn't very large, probably only a few dozen people, and many of them looked tired.

He was currently on the edge of the street, in their path, and could easily be knocked over if they weren't careful.

The one who spoke up to remind He Ao was a little girl in the group. She looked quite young, much younger than Elian. The little girl was walking at the front of the group, holding up a picture of Skevis with a big 'X' drawn on it.

At this moment, the little girl stepped forward, blocking He Ao's way and guiding the group to make way for him.

"Are you having a march?" He Ao stepped aside slightly, making room for others, and asked casually with a smile.

“Yes, grandpa,” the little girl nodded quickly, “we’ll hold a protest and get the senators and representatives to impeach Skewers.”

"Do you hate the president?" Heo glanced at the crowd around him and asked casually.

“Of course, he wasn’t elected president by us. He seized power entirely by exploiting loopholes in the process,” the girl said indignantly when the topic came up. “What he’s doing now is completely different from what he promised before. He even framed Christos and got the corporation to kill someone. We must make him step down!”

"That's right!" Several young men nearby chimed in as they passed by the girl.

“Sir, we’re moving on,” the little girl said, glancing at her companion and bidding farewell to He Ao. “Please be careful as you walk, and don’t get bumped into.”

"Okay." He Ao nodded with a smile and watched her leave.

"These young people have been wandering around this area all day, haven't they? Why haven't they left yet?"

Just then, several voices came from beside He Ao. The voices were not loud and seemed to be quite far away, only Hawke's hearing could hear them clearly.

He Ao turned his gaze and found a small tavern at the edge of his field of vision. Several people were sitting on the seats at the entrance of the tavern, watching the departing parade and chatting about something.

He turned around and walked toward the tavern, where he could hear an even louder discussion.

"Young people are full of energy. If it were us, we would have to sneak off to a strip club after half a day."

"Hahaha, what's wrong? You spent all your salary at the club again this week?"

"Hey, I'd love to, but guess what? Before the money even got to my hands, it was automatically paid off by my credit card. There's still a huge amount left to pay off, and I have to keep paying in installments. Sometimes I don't even know how much I actually owe."

"Don't even mention it. Just a couple of days ago, a bank called to say I was overdue on my payments. I don't even remember when I opened the card with them."

"There were quite a few people in the march this morning, but now only these students are left. Most people can't hold out for this long."

"Did they storm the Ives Space Systems building? I heard there have been a lot of murders lately, and quite a few people have died in Irons. It hasn't been on the news, so I don't know if it's true or not."

"Hey, do you think these students are idiots? They're shrewd. There are a bunch of soldiers guarding the Ives space system, killing without blinking an eye. They just circle around the city council and city government, all talk and no action."

"What do you think they're after? Anti-corporations? The Ives Space System is fierce, but if they leave, we won't have anyone to hire. Everyone will be unemployed, jobless, and sleeping on the streets."

"Hey, forget about sleeping on the streets, we'll probably all starve to death together!"

"But to be fair, the Ives Space System is really inhumane. I have an old friend who was recently turned into mincemeat by a machine in a factory. His wife didn't get a penny, and Ives even sued them, demanding money to compensate for the machine. In the end, the court even ruled in their house. His son is only five years old, and his wife is now sleeping on the streets with the child."

"Sigh, I've heard about him. I think I saw his wife at a strip club not long ago."

"His wife is decent-looking; at least she can raise the children and prevent them from starving to death."

A brief silence fell as night fell, broken only by the gurgling of alcohol.

"Why are we working so hard? Every day we wake up to endless work and unpaid loans. I wish I had gone to university back then. Those bookworms just sit in offices and get paid."

"You think those bookworms have it easy? Guess how much their tuition is?"

"Twenty thousand?"

"Seventy thousand! And that doesn't even include accommodation!"

"Where are they going to get that much money?! Holy crap! Why don't these universities just rob us?!"

"Hey, there's no way to make money faster than robbing someone."

"How can they go to university if they don't have money?"

"How do they get in? They take out loans. Those with good credit scores get loans from banks, and those with bad scores get loans from small companies. The interest is over ten percent a year. After they graduate, they have to pay in installments for thirty or forty years. They work day and night, and a large part of their income goes to paying off their student loans."

"Now that you mention it, they might as well not have gone to school at all!"

"I think this university isn't for us, it's for the children and grandchildren of those bigwigs in the conglomerates."

"What the hell has become of this world! My grandpa used to tell me that when he was young, things weren't like this! At least they could make a living!"

“Back in your grandfather’s time, there were two or three conglomerates in this city, and you could choose your job. They would even raise wages to attract people. Now, there’s only the Ivis Space System left. If you don’t work for them, you’ll starve to death.”

"Hey, our main credit card can only be used to apply for the Ives Space System. The damn interest rate is so high that I can't even count it or figure it out. These office workers are really inhuman. We work and earn a little salary, and it all goes to paying off loans."

"Stop talking about it. Just talking about taxes makes me so angry. The tax bureau is a bunch of idiots. Who the hell can understand those dense legal clauses? I paid off my installment plan with a tax company last year and I still haven't finished paying it off. I have to pay a huge amount of taxes. Damn it, all the money I worked so hard to save has gone to taxes."

"Hey, you fucking use fucking as a pause, huh?"

"But I heard that those tycoons of the Ives Space System Group don't pay taxes. Their villas and luxury cars are all tax-free."

"But the city government listens to those damn corporate tycoons."

"That's just how the world is. We pay to support the council lords, but they act as dogs for the lords who don't pay us."

"That damn Ives space system, that damn city government, that damn federation."

"Stop cursing, stop cursing, or someone will hear you."

"Damn it, can't I even curse a little?"

"To put it bluntly, it's because we don't work hard. If we work hard to make money, we can all live the life of those lords once we become rich."

"Damn it, I work fifteen or sixteen hours a day, and my whole body aches. Isn't that working hard enough? How damn hard do I have to work?"

"You do a lot of work because you're stupid. Those lords sit there doing nothing and still get money in their accounts. That's what you call smart."

"You think you're so smart? You sit there and I'll see when money falls from the sky into your hands."

"Forget it, it's not easy for anyone, we're all just trying to make a living."

"Actually, I don't think it's necessarily our fault. Have you heard of 'K'?"

"Holy crap, are you crazy? This is not a place for discussion! Have you started believing in some evil god?"

"Shh, we're all regulars, let's just chat, let's just chat. I have nothing to do with that 'K'. I just watched some of his videos. Honestly, I think that with this level of work intensity, even if you're smart, you won't make any money and you won't live long."

“Among us brothers, some left in their twenties, some in their thirties, and we ourselves might not even live to forty. Those old men, living to seventy or eighty is normal, and they have more money than they can spend in their lifetime.”

"Do you really think this makes sense? They might be a little smarter than us, but are they really that much smarter?"

As night fell, silence descended once more, broken only by the intermittent sounds of drinking.

"So what exactly is that 'K' about?"

"Actually, it's nothing much, just two or three videos and some speeches by Christos."

"Is that 'K' really trustworthy? I heard that 'K' is actually an evil god called Death in disguise? Those parade groups use the opportunity of the parade to sacrifice their companions, is that the truth behind those deaths?"

"I've never heard of these rumors. Where did they come from?"

"I saw it online, it's everywhere."

"Maybe those lords deliberately released it to slander 'K'. Actually, I don't think he's some kind of evil god. He seems to be trying to tell us something."

"Is this guy really as amazing as you guys say? Do you have a video? Can I see it?"

"Of course there is—wait a minute—shh—"

"What's wrong?"

“An old man walked by. Here, this is a chip. You guys copy it quickly.”

"Alright, alright, when I was young, I wasn't as careful as you when I robbed gang stores."

"That old man looks quite old, but he's very energetic. I wish I could live to his age."

"Stop dreaming. It would be a good thing if we could survive until next year."

"Does gray hair mean someone is old? My hair is almost all white too, and I won't be forty for another two years."

The tavern fell silent once again, with only the gurgling of drinkers remaining.

He walked quietly along the edge of the street, past the pub, and into the deepest part of the street.

He wanted to exit through the east gate, so he parked the Hades ship a little to the east.

His body moved forward, through the thick night, gently brushing against the bracelet on his wrist, and a gentle voice sounded in his ear:

Hello, K.

Night fell, engulfing the white hair.

-

Dawn City · Radiant Palace
On either side of the long, narrow conference table, figures were engaged in a heated argument.

“This behavior is tantamount to provoking a civil war,” a man who looked to be in his thirties and was dressed in a simple suit said quickly from the left side of the table. “Scivis is purely trying to start a war with us, and we must respond!”

"How should we deal with this?" a middle-aged, stout figure in a white silk suit asked hoarsely. "Go to war with them? Wouldn't that be starting a civil war?! A real war would benefit no one!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" a woman with a high ponytail said coldly. "Should we wait for them to attack and then surrender? Or should we send Mr. Christos directly to Irons to face their judgment?!"

“I don’t think this is a bad solution,” a thin figure in the corner said. “The federal laws and framework are still in place. We haven’t really committed any crimes. Going to Irons and Skevis to confront them is no big deal. Justice will prevail. Everyone knows we’re innocent, and they can’t really do anything to us.”

"Are you a three-year-old, friend?" A short-haired man on the left sneered. "If someone slanders us, we have to prove ourselves, then what's the difference between you and a dog being played with on a leash? In Irons, it's all conglomerates. How can you talk to them about evidence? They can just find a charge to send you to jail and then shoot you eight times in the back to commit suicide."

“Young man, don’t be so impulsive,” the thin figure said coldly, sitting up straight after being provoked. “The federal president is also subject to federal law. If we really go to Irons, everyone will be watching. Do you think they would dare to actually attack us?”

"Who are you talking about as the audience? The conglomerate? Hasn't Skevis already torn off all pretense of civility by doing all this? Entrusting his life and fortune to the mercy of his enemy," the short-haired man sneered. "I think you've gotten older, but your mind hasn't grown any more."

“The most crucial question is, even if we go to Irons, what can we prove?” A woman wearing glasses next to the short-haired man said slowly, “Even if Skevis doesn’t dare to attack us directly, it doesn’t stop him from dragging things out and having the army and mercenary groups attack us.”

“I still think we can’t go to war,” the man in the silk suit said slowly. “A civil war in the Federation would be bad for everyone, and many people would die.”

"You're afraid of affecting your business and that of your supporters, aren't you?" the short-haired man sneered. "I told you, you small business owners are no different from conglomerates in the end, just on different scales."

“Dawn City cannot guarantee that it can produce all its own supplies,” the man in the silk suit said directly, neither denying nor admitting it.

“Once the war begins, trade routes will be cut off, a large number of shops will close, and a large number of people will lose their jobs. These people are all burdened with a lot of loans, which will make them homeless in an instant. The city will definitely be in chaos in a short period of time. Therefore, I do not agree with starting a war. The conglomerates are driven by profit. As long as we are willing to make some concessions, they will definitely be willing to negotiate.”

"Retreat?" the man in the simple suit who spoke first said. "How do we retreat? Abolish all the laws and go back to the beginning? What's the difference between that and surrendering outright?"

“It’s not necessary to return everything. These are all bargaining chips, and we can negotiate…” the man in the silk suit said slowly.

“I think you just want to surrender—” The short-haired man suddenly stood up.

The entire conference room erupted in a heated argument.

Christos, sitting in the main seat of the conference room, quietly watched the arguing crowd, then turned his head to look out the window at the bustling city at night.

"Has Seth gone off to 'collect local stories' yet?" he asked his assistant beside him.

“According to the information we received last time,” the young assistant replied slowly, “Vice Mayor Sert should be on his way back.”

As night deepened, the figures of people arguing fiercely were reflected in the star-like lights outside the glass curtain wall, their faint glow flickering.