New Calendar 1027, January 2nd.
The shops in Pulmoath were filled with festive spirit, and Aaron even watched a few grand holiday parades.
But after nightfall, the wandering and homeless would find that the city's prosperity and wealth had nothing to do with them.
They spend everything they have, but still, they can't have a foothold in Pulmoath.
They can only roam around, endure the scorn and eviction of patrol officers, and fend off the bitter cold under the bridge with tattered newspapers.
Aaron, of course, does not need to become a vagrant, but looking at the massive city in the darkness of night, he also feels somewhat confused.
'It is said that Pulmoath gathers the young people of Engwiss who have dreams and is known as the dream of the metropolis. Still, only a few of them have successfully realized their dreams...'
'Most of them shed their hard-work, sweat, and even tears in this city, then quietly leave in old age or severe illness, or even die here...'
