The night was deep, and the bustling commercial district was still brilliantly illuminated.
Against the man-made lights, the bright moon seemed dim and colorless.
As the taxi passed the deep-set entrance to the bar, He Ao could vaguely hear the rhythmic music inside.
The nightscape of Vitland was a fusion of noise and silence.
Lively shopping areas, sleepless entertainment venues, dynamic music—people were immersed in this seemingly eternal bustle.
On the other side lay the ceaselessly lit office buildings, the thunderously operating machines of factories that never halted, the coming and going of tired crowds, and the deathly still residential areas of Plante District.
Some of the big screens outside the malls were playing Ned's election commercials, while others showed the evening news.
The crowds flowed past, like ants beneath the grandeur of human-made structures.
