"Pop..."
The guy in the passenger seat flexed his fingers and then took out a handkerchief to clean them off, "These last few days of observation have been a bit troublesome."
The driver was also tidying up his leftover food, packing the remnants into a brown paper bag and casually tossing it by the roadside.
The cleanliness of the Federation's streets, much like its famed freedom, was pure nonsense.
There was trash everywhere, but it was noteworthy that no cigarette butts were to be seen here.
Because cigarette butts were picked up by some poor people, remade into rolled cigarettes, and sold to other poor people.
Moreover, there weren't many items worth selling among the trash; with the influx of so many refugees, sellable garbage was scarce, and the litter visible on the streets held no value, nor could it be exchanged for money.
