Inside a warehouse in a district under control by the Street Aristocrats, several workers were moving crates filled with precious smithing metals.
"Hurry up! I don't want to spend all night with you stinky goons!" The foreman boomed.
"Pah! If you want us to be fast, why don't you buy us some space rings to move these stuff, huh?" One of the workers complained.
"How dare you talk to me like that? Do you want a whooping?" The foreman threatened.
"Forget it. Space rings are not for poor people like us," another worker told the one who complained. "Just hurry and finish up here so we can go and join the festival at the city hall."
"Come on, man. Do you think they will let a ruffian like us join?"
"Aren't it open to the public?"
