"Don't you think Mangrel was acting weird today?" Devis questioned Veneir, sporting a strange look.
Veineir's brow rose hearing Devis's worried and suspicious voice, replying in a small voice: "Weird? I didn't find anything out of place though. He had the same wry look on his face as ever."
Both of them were working side by side, pushing metal carts filled with concrete. Fortunately or unfortunately, they both received the same task today.
"But...It was my first time seeing him laugh like that." Devis's eyes squinted on their own, as he thought upon the moment he met with Mangrel this morning after a long time.
Mangrel and Devis were close, knowing each other for more than a year. All this time, there was never an instance where Mangrel laughed.
The old Mangrel was someone who mostly only smiled at times of happiness. He appeared gloomy a lot of times too, looking sad like something was eating him away from within.
Devis was not exactly aware of the reason for Mangrel's gloominess, but he knew that it had something to do with his mother.
It was through the words that left Mangrel's mouth as he sat alone.
Meren, another one of their friends, resided in the alleyway next to the one Mangrel stayed at. And he was aware of the reason Mangrel looked so sad in many instances when alone.
Meren withheld the reason because Mangrel requested him to not tell anyone.
Veneir entered a state of deep contemplation, hearing Devis speak.
'Mangrel laughing? I have never seen him laugh now that I think about it. Well....'
Veneir subtly turned to Devis, speaking in a low voice: "Isn't it a good thing that he began to laugh? You always kept trying to get close to him and become friends with him. So, you must be quite happy to see him like that."
There was mischief in Veneir's voice, teasing Devis with a smile.
Devis turned away in embarrassment, almost everyone was aware that he wanted to get close to Mangrel.
The reason Mangrel became close to everyone in their gang was thanks to Devis too.
'I am overthinking, huh? It must have bugged me as I always wanted to make him laugh.' Devis was just worried about Mangrel as a friend.
Veneir smiled: "Hehehe, don't be shy now. Let's look around the street after today's task is over, with everyone, okay?"
"Um!, let's do that, we should try to explore and look at new things, as a form of celebrating Mangrel's safe recovery."
Smiles stretched across both of their faces.
Every child working in construction sites was nothing but a beggar or vagrant living on scraps.
These children go through hardship every day, fighting to obtain even a single piece of bread. Their life was not in their hands, instead, it was controlled by others.
Nevertheless, they did everything they could to enjoy this instant. This showed that, though their life was in others' hands, at least they had some of their free will remaining.
Freedom was an ethereal concept, it could be close to us, but at the same time infinitely far and hard to achieve.
It was the people who decided whether they were free or not. It all depends on the perception of oneself, some decide to settle in whatever position they hold, while some keep moving forward, yearning to achieve something beyond.
And lastly, the people who could not even decide their fate.
In the end, Mankind believes what they want to believe. The sweetness of life, which was like a dream, was just that tempting, so much that only a few could let go of it.
This was what Mangrel learned while traveling as a lone cultivator. A precious experience that made him who he was right at the moment.
.....
'Haha, but at the same time, this dream can come to an end as quickly as a snapping of a finger. People's hearts don't change so easily, just like how I had to live a dog's life to discard all the values I got from the Earth.'
Mangrel's gaze shifted to the sky, where clouds covered the sun. The sun slowly emerged from the corner of the cloud.
'What I wish to attain is true freedom, not something intangible like that, which could be snatched away from me anytime.' Mangrel positioned his hand on the forehead, guarding his eyes against the sun's blinding rays.
The plain streets and Mangrel were blanketed by the light of the purple sun. The voices of human activity covered the street, with many carriages pulled by different kinds of beasts passing by.
Unlike the porcelain-like tiles in the deeper area of the construction site, the sidewalks were made of brick tiles. Street lamps could be seen appearing on the sidewalk, having a certain distance between each of them.
Many gazes smeared in disdain and disgust landed on Mangrel, piercing through the air.
Mangrel's status as a beggar was visible as clearly as water, because of his clothes and complexion. People kept their distance as he walked through the sidewalks, they were almost treating him like a plague.
Many ignored Mangrel's existence altogether, moving to their work autonomously.
The mindset of most of the people living here was different from Earth. Poverty and unemployment were very normal, making the life of people with lower standing quite unpredictable.
No normal citizen would go out of their way, to worry about a beggar, a total stranger to them.
'People who direct pity on me are first and foremost.' Mangrel thought, while not keeping much of a high expectation.
Mangrel's eyes subtly looked at the surroundings. He felt something to be out of place as he did so.
Some memories about the streets appeared within Mangrel, sending him into another session of slight daze. This did not affect him much physically, only pausing for a second.
Mangrel's eyes regained their clarity, processing the new information — his thought began fluctuating again.
'I see, there is another area for trading cultivation material. That must have been what was bugging me, the fact that there are only a few stalls in the street is unnatural in many ways.'
From this information, many other things could be inferred too. Unlike the higher realm or the lower continent Mangrel was born in, the cultivators of this continent were secretive type. And even the smallest material about cultivation was kept out of grasp to the humans here.
The restriction of cultivation material was predictable, no organization would want a cultivator to pop out of nowhere. Monopoly was normal, it was the same on the other lower continents.
The place where Mangrel was, clearly did not appear to be a clan. So there was no way any free cultivation technique or arts would be provided in any way.
'....It was the right decision to hide the algaeist flower like that, if any other cultivator found it, they might have just sold it. Algaeist flower is after all a rank zero poison material.' Mangrel found his past cautious move to be satisfactory. He had the extra option of selling it now, though it was still not simple.
There were only taverns, inns, or a few food shops here and there, in Mangrel's surroundings.
The trading port was unfortunately restricted to people who were not cultivators or had no permit. Which meant, Mangrel would not be able to enter this area.
'Well, I don't have any origin stones on me anyway.'
Mangrel walked around the streets for a while, searching for anyone he could rip some food off from.
Whenever fatigue reached its peak, Mangrel took a break by sitting on the steps, besides the stone bridges. This city had multiple streams of rivers flowing throughout the place.
After around an hour,
In the end, no such person appeared, people showed no compassion for a beggar at all.
'As I expected, the other beggars must have also walked around like me. There might be cases where some beggars have already taken food off people.' Mangrel coldly thought to himself.
There was no way any normal person would give some beggars food every day. Seeing beggars must have turned into an everyday occurrence around here, numbing the citizens' feelings.
Frozen in position, for instance, Mangrel turned around and began moving towards a certain location from his memory. Looking for someone to rip food off from was his secondary objective, scouting the area and learning about it was the main goal.
Knowledge was the greatest weapon introduced to the history of mankind. Without it, possibilities narrow down the eventual path to very few or even none.
After walking for a few minutes, Mangrel moved into a street with wooden and wooden houses colored in verdant vegetation. These houses were clearly for poverty-stricken people.
Mostly hunters or people who were servants at some local workplace lived here.
Mangrel briefly glanced sideways and moved into this street, covered in a gloomy atmosphere.