Golden Wind Street, the evening breeze that blew didn't carry the scent of money but rather brought a choking smell of substandard lamp oil.
Most of the people living here couldn't afford the clean and simple but expensive new energy sources, so they resorted to finding primitive materials to refine and process to maintain their livelihood.
Of course, this was illegal.
According to the laws of the Empire, it posed a huge safety hazard.
They didn't worry about whether you could afford to eat, but were concerned about your personal safety.
"Old friend?" A hint of sarcasm emerged at the corner of the old man's mouth as he spoke, "When it came down to killing the families and friends of 'old friends,' you never showed mercy."
"Such is the life in the martial world; one often has no control over their actions."
"Heh..." The mockery on the old man's face grew thicker, and he lost interest in conversing.
