Chapter 1: Summer Breeze 

Jin Gang City is also known as the City of Angels.

The world's third largest port, with the highest daily throughput in the northern hemisphere, this city has many other names as well!

It is like the gospel bestowed upon the world by God, bathed in God's glory, and everything is perfect...

What a crock of shit!

The Federation likes to call it the City of Angels, but in the eyes of some people, it's not much different from hell.

For example, Lance at this time was thinking this way.

The City of Angels is too dangerous.

Almost every day there are several shootings in the city, even dozens.

Sometimes when the gangs fight, the people who die in the fight need to be carried away in trucks.

The rapid development of the local economy has also brought a large number of criminals and criminal groups, and city officials corrupted by capital and black gold oversee the entire city.

They only care about how much the numbers in their accounts increase every month, not about whether the bottom of society will starve to death or get into trouble.

What people need is always just the economic myths it keeps creating. Not many people care whether anyone is struggling to survive behind the glamorous city.

They don't want to know, and they don't allow anyone to know.

After all, this is the City of Angels, the engine of the federal economy!

Lance looked at the girl on the street with a little lost, this kind of ancient warm breeze from the last century into people's hearts, as if the whole world had put on a natural old filter.

It was as if the whole world was dim, and occasionally there were some spots due to overexposure.

The obviously wrong sound from the record player poured out of the speakers, adding a touch to this retro world.

The summer sun heats up the city and the hearts of the girls.

Two young girls in sleeveless shirts and short skirts, wearing a small round hat, pass by the bakery. Their energetic and joyful smiles suddenly brighten up the old-fashioned city.

"Pop," a slap on the face, Lance's eyes snap back from the kitchen window, and the bakery owner is standing behind him, glaring at him menacingly.

"I hired you to work, not to stare at the girls over the counter!"

He snapped his hand, making a crackling sound. "Get moving, damn lazy good-for-nothing, don't let me see you hiding and slacking again, I'm paying you!"

Lance scratched his head and picked up a rag to start cleaning the window.

Business was average today. A bakery like this one, which was not located in a busy neighborhood or city center, was like a bakery in a different world.

They did the daily business of the surrounding residents, and their main business hours were before 9:30 in the morning and after work in the afternoon.

At other times of the day, there were basically no people.

The owner of the bakery had the characteristics of a typical junior capitalist. He oppressed himself while exploiting his employees and trying to control them at the same time.

In addition to Lance, there was an apprentice in the bakery. Not only did he not get a penny a month, but he also had to pay the bakery owner ten dollars as a tuition fee for learning the trade.

He had been here for more than half a year, and so far, apart from kneading the dough, he could do nothing else.

The bakery owner was very fat, about 230 to 240 pounds, and had a very skilled hand at making bread.

The surrounding residents are all his loyal customers. The main product here, that whole wheat bread, has a very strong feeling of fullness and doesn't make you feel hungry too easily.

Lance has secretly seen that this bastard adds extra bran to it, so that the bread will be drier, harder, more substantial, and more popular with the poor.

Because it can better fill the stomach and make you less hungry.

The poor don't care what they put in their stomachs, they just care about being resistant to hunger.

He didn't like the boss because he was mean and stingy.

Lance's monthly salary was fifteen dollars, and the average salary in the City of Angels was currently around sixty dollars. It was said that there was a subject called "statistics" in college for this average.

In fact, most workers only earned forty-five to fifty dollars a month.

Lance's salary is one-third of the actual salary. He actually doesn't want to get paid so little and do endless amounts of work.

But there is no good way out of it. He is an illegal immigrant.

He somehow ended up on a ship, which then docked here.

According to the people on the ship, they all paid enough money to sneak into the Federation.

The economy of the Federation is developing rapidly, and there is a huge shortage of labor. Even today, when mechanization is being promoted everywhere, you can still see people working together with oxen and horses in many factories.

In fact, sometimes you can't really tell them so clearly, who is a person and who is an ox or a horse.

The gap between people and oxen and horses is actually not as big as you think.

The economy is developing rapidly, and there is always a huge shortage of labor. The president is promoting the "Irregular Immigration Legalization Act".

To put it bluntly, it is to give illegal immigrants a legal status as citizens, the kind that can still vote.

This move has gained the support of many illegal immigrants without status, and it has also made the use of illegal workers more common. Everyone seems to have realized something, but they just don't say it.

It is precisely because he does not have a legal status that he can only work here and receive a salary that is more than half less than others.

This situation is common in Jingang City. Everyone likes to use illegal workers. If you are obedient, these budding novice capitalists will cut your salary by another two yuan next month.

If you are not obedient enough, they will simply call the police and say that they are being harassed by you.

This tactic is very effective against illegal workers.

A fellow villager who came with Lance is now having a free lunch.

All afternoon, he kept busy back and forth in the bakery.

The smell of the toasting bread tempted him as the hours passed, but now was not the time.

Only after work, when the unsold bread was given to him, would he get a chance to eat it.

The bakery owner's low-priced bread could not be left overnight, as it would become as hard as a brick. Although it could be toasted and eaten, it was not as good as fresh, so it would become their food.

From a little after six, the bakery became busy. The fat owner stood at the counter collecting money, while his daughter served the customers.

The apprentice could not rest for a moment, putting the finished bread dough in the oven and then continuing to knead the dough.

Lancelot, on the other hand, was responsible for various miscellaneous tasks.

The owner's daughter was not very beautiful, but she was plump and had a lot of character.

A kind of...rotten smell. If it weren't for the fact that her body odor was too strong, Lance might have bitten the bullet and become part of the bakery owner's family.

But it was just too strong, and he really couldn't bear it.

The busy work finally ended after 8:30 p.m. Lance dragged his tired body to clean the bakery. He wasn't allowed to just enter the kitchen, so his main place of work was in the front hall.

The fat boss sat at the table counting today's income, his smile completely uncontrollable.

It is hard to imagine a mean person being able to wear such a soft and gentle smile. Perhaps this is the power of money.

Lance finished cleaning the last place, put all the tools in order, and made sure there was nothing missing before walking over to the fat boss.

The oppressive feeling of someone approaching him made the fat boss look up, looking at Lance with some wariness, "What do you want?"

Lance forced a smile, "It's been a month, boss, my salary..."

The fat boss, who had been a little wary, almost jumped up like someone had stepped on his tail. "Salary?"

"What salary?"

"A few days ago it rained heavily. You didn't catch a fever, did you?"

"No fever. What nonsense are you talking about?"

"What salary can you have?"

Looking at the fat boss, who seemed to be jumping up and down as if he had been stabbed in the buttocks, Lance was also a little confused. "We agreed before, fifteen dollars a month."

The fat boss stared at Lance with wide eyes. "Yes, that's right, but have you thought about how much you've cost me this month, every day you've been living here and eating my bread?"

He sat back down and turned the page of his notebook. "The cheapest hotel nearby costs 25 cents a day, and since you're living in the shop, I'll count you as 20."

"So for 30 days in a month..."

"It's February, boss."

"Shut up and listen to me!"

"Thirty-one days, twenty cents a day is..."

Lance looked at the fat boss, who had crashed, and reminded him in a low voice, "Six dollars and two cents, boss."

The fat boss nodded, 'You're right, six dollars and five cents, and you'll get one of my loaves of bread every morning and evening."

"You know, I sell each loaf of bread for fifteen cents, which is...' He looked at Lance, waiting for Lance to give him a standard answer.

Lance did not disappoint him. "Nine dollars and thirty cents, Boss."

The fat boss added another number to his notebook. "Yes, nine dollars and fifty cents, plus the cost of your accommodation, six dollars and fifty cents, you will cost me... ten... eighteen dollars a month."

"But your salary is only fifteen, kid, so I ask you, what makes you think you deserve a salary?"

"You now owe me three dollars, to be deducted from next month's salary, if you have one."

Lance was a little incredulous. After all, this kind of thing only happened in "storybooks" and "history," and even though a month had passed, he didn't really have a sense of "involvement."

To him, it was as if he were a passerby in the long river of history, perhaps marveling at the world, but not having much attachment to it.

Until this moment—

"Are you...sure you're not joking?" he asked.