Xingtie, started with a guitar, and made a living by singing

"That planet is very special. One year is equal to sixty years in Yalilo. Fifteen years of spring, fifteen years of summer, fifteen years of autumn, and fifteen years of winter..."

Just by listening to the description, the children all opened their mouths and exclaimed "Wow!" Although they did not have a clear concept of time and did not know the seasonal nouns that had long been swept into the category of uncommon ancient characters, their imagination was enough to make up for it all.

"People are born in this seemingly stagnant season, growing from babies to young girls, never having witnessed the changing of seasons. They can only hear from their elders what the changing of seasons looks like—"

They say that in spring there is an inexhaustible sea of ​​honey; in summer the nights are filled with the songs of frogs and insects, making it difficult to fall asleep; in autumn one can just stand on tiptoe to pick fruits and have a feast; in winter..."

Perhaps their imaginations had reached a bottleneck, and the children gradually began to look drowsy. Only Hook, still staring with his watery eyes, answered quickly.

"In the winter, you have to go down into the mines and dig for marrow to keep warm, right?!"

Wendy was slightly taken aback by this, and then answered in a somewhat puzzling manner.

"Maybe, but I think - when the snow piles up in the winter, we can have snowball fights."

"Pfft, Wendy, you're so childish. What's so fun about snowball fights?"

Hook laughed at him. For these children who had never seen the sun above their heads since childhood, thickening snow was never a good thing.

In this lower area that is being increasingly eroded by the Rift, the space people live in is being continuously compressed, and wind and snow are the monotonous things that have been accompanying mechanical gears since their birth.

Most importantly,

One day, when I was digging snowballs with my friends, I happened to find a scavenger buried underneath, his face blue and body stiff from the cold.

Any interest in having fun would be frozen at this moment.

The most common thing children hear from their families is that they cannot sleep in snowdrifts.

Because once you fall asleep, you can never wake up again.

When Wendy was feeling distressed and didn't know how to answer, someone came to his rescue.

"All right. Hook, you should go home. Mr. Fishman will be worried if you're any later—"

This is a female doctor named Natasha. She is also one of the few doctors in the lower class area, caring for the men, women, young and old in the lower class area where medical resources are extremely scarce.

Because of her profession and her unquestionable attitude when taking care of others, Natasha is both respected and feared by most people in the lower class.

This is also true for Hook. Although he would call the other party an old witch in private, when he is in person, he will still call her "Sister Natasha" from the bottom of his heart.

As soon as Natasha spoke to him, Hook let out a "ouch" and took a few steps back in fright.

Two days ago, she was criticized for accidentally breaking one of Natasha's test tubes.

So meeting each other at this moment is like a mole meeting an owl!

"Uh uh, now that you mention it, it's true! Then I won't bother Sister Natasha and Wendy anymore. I'm leaving now."

Hook left with his two followers, a boy named Julian and a girl named Alina.

After listening to the story and eating snacks, the children said goodbye to Wendy in groups of three or four and went home.

Although the upper class is probably still discussing what to have for afternoon tea, for the children in the lower class, it is almost time to go home and not go out casually.

After watching the children leave, Wendy looked at Dr. Natasha as if she had been "saved."

She wore a gray-white headband, tying her cyan hair into a neat and tidy ponytail.

She had a plump figure that could not be concealed even by the doctor's clothes, which were mainly red and white. She had a gentle smile and a quiet temperament.

However, Wendy became a little more serious when she saw the tired look on his face, as he was so exhausted that he didn't even notice his bangs falling down.

"Thank you for your hard work. Natasha, would you like some music to relax you? A capriccio or a serenade?"

"No need." Natasha smiled and shook her head, a hint of relief in her tired eyes. "If I listen to your serenade now, I'm afraid I'll sleep until tomorrow morning."

"Don't say that. You're a dahlia in the prime of your life! If you don't get enough rest and wither away prematurely, that would be such a pity."

Wendy sat on the empty hospital bed, rummaged through her pockets, and when she found that all the snacks were gone, she had no choice but to pretend to lie flat on the bed naturally, gently shaking her two curvy white silk legs and muttering softly.

"Oh my, I really miss the days when I had apples to eat..."

Although she was curious about the "very old-fashioned" things that occasionally came out of Wendy's mouth, as expected - Natasha cared more about Wendy's gender.

However, facing his teasing, if she didn't respond, Wendy would be very lonely.

She tried to answer in the same relaxed, hymn-like tone as he did.

"Being remembered by a poet like you who sings the beauty of the world, I believe that even after a long time, this flower will reappear in a story that suits it, right?"

Natasha didn't dare to say that she knew Wendy very well. Like most people who knew him, she subconsciously stopped to listen when she heard his beautiful piano music.

Of course, Wendy is not that mysterious.

Everyone knows that Wendy's gender is Wendy. Wendy will die if she is too lonely. Every time Wendy earns a reward, she will try to buy some alcohol. (Although she always cannot afford it because she looks too young and does not have enough money.)

But which one is the most well-known?

That is, only by listening to the end of Wendy's story can you know whether it has a good or bad ending.

Chapter 3 Tyrants and Slaves

After getting acquainted with Wendy, or rather her occupational disease ended, Natasha got down to business.

"So, let's get back to the last commission. Wendy, have you heard anything?"

"Regarding the matter of the dictator, I'm afraid it's even worse than you expected."

Because Wendy often went back and forth between the upper and lower classes, she often used the money she earned from singing to help the children in the lower class.

After the initial probation period, Natasha, who believed that Wendy was trustworthy, asked him to help find out the Great Guardian's current attitude towards the lower area.

After all, this is a topic that cannot be discussed in the upper class area. Simply asking civilians will not yield any results, as the relevant information is tightly controlled by those in power.

Only Wendy could easily blend into some aristocratic parties held by the upper class with her singing skills and her easy-going and friendly temperament.

Letting him inquire about this information is like a fish in water. He doesn't even need to take any risks. As long as he goes a few more times, he will always get something.

Those nobles in the upper class would never have thought that a drunken bard who always indulged in wine every time he came to a party would have such thoughts.

Therefore, after getting to know the general face, Wendy soon learned some secrets from a noble lady who was ignorant of the world and blindly followed the Great Guardian's words and deeds.

After explaining the news to Natasha, her expression became even uglier.

Natasha twisted her hair anxiously and murmured softly, "For the Great Guardian, aren't the people in the lower districts the people she needs to protect..."

"It's hard to describe, but there might be a better word in the book."

Wendy looked at her and said softly.

"—slaves, or rather, victims."

Regardless of which one, the implications they conveyed were not good, and were more pointed and harsh, enough to provoke instinctive objections from some people, just like Natasha at this moment.

She frowned, seemingly dissatisfied with the description.

"Be careful what you say, Wendy. Although she has imposed a blockade on the lower districts, she does not force people to work for her, nor does she have slave masters who can wield the whip over us."

"But the fact is, ever since the lockdown order was issued, the life and death of the lower district has basically been controlled by her, right?"

Just as slave owners could easily decide the life and death of slaves used for ritual sacrifice.

For the Great Guardian, if the upper and lower levels are placed on the scales respectively.

What she did was to constantly seize the weights belonging to the lower level area and add them to the upper level area.

This move not only allowed her to continue to fabricate lies and give the upper areas a false sense of peace, but also avoided possible unrest in the rear.

As for whether the lower class will have a good or bad life, it is already determined from the moment they decide to be abandoned.

Because she believes that in the face of a great goal, any sacrifice is "valuable" and "meaningful."

Even though this has long gone against the original intention of establishing this city.

The unspoken words after this made Natasha fall into silence.

In the original Beloberg, the city's structure was like two large discs connected together. The upper area was responsible for administration and trade, while the lower area was responsible for energy supply and resource extraction.

From an objective point of view, it is actually more like a division of responsibilities.

But now that the distribution is handled by the Grand Guardian, this is not the case with the upper and lower areas.

In the upper area, people can dress smartly and walk on flat roads that are so clean that not a trace of snow can be seen.

You can take a public procession bus to the administrative district, spend a little money, sit in the auditorium like a respectable nobleman, and enjoy a performance praising "The Great Guardian".

They could also have the most basic security guarantees. Even if the erosion of the Rift Realm was also distressing to them, they would never lose their lives in vain.

The Silver Mane Iron Guard will protect their physical safety, and the Grand Guardian will give them spiritual comfort. As long as they live as the believers are guided, most of them can remain blindly faithful until death.

But in the lower district, it's a different story.

Due to past industrial planning, the lower level area is mostly populated by large-scale mining equipment rather than residential areas for people's livelihood.

Likewise, the underground world's environment does not allow people to survive in a self-sufficient manner.

Most plants and organisms here are inedible. If humans consume them, they will quickly suffer organ failure, which is basically a death sentence in the lower-class areas where medical supplies are scarce.

To do this, people must collect large amounts of earth marrow, transport it up through pipelines connecting the upper and lower levels, and then exchange it for daily necessities that the lower levels rely on for survival.

This may sound different from the past, but it is not.

First, there was a mobilization order to recall the Silver Mane Iron Guard to be used in the so-called counterattack front. Ten years later, there is still no sign of mobilizing the Iron Guard to return.

During this period, she also completely blocked the lower area, leaving the people in the lower area who lacked resistance with no way to retreat and were like lambs to be slaughtered.

The situation in the entire lower area is like a frog in boiling water. First, there is a local retreat, then various small mining areas are lost, and the homes where people once lived have become a death zone rampant with monsters.

Even though the Earth Fire, a spontaneous organization of the people, and the Svaro boss of the mechanical settlement established a defense line, the erosion of the Rift was still inevitable.

People did not have enough daily necessities, were always hungry, were forced to become wanderers, and even formed gangs to rob others.

The roads available for walking are always shrouded in a dead silence like the night. When you look up, you can't see the sun, only pitch black, like a huge gear structure pressing on your atrium.

There is a lack of adequate protection for both basic safety and mental well-being, but people still need to go to work under such circumstances.

Dig out the earth's marrow, transport it to the upper level, make "contributions" to the lower areas, and carry forward the "Beloberg" spirit.

This mobilization order, printed in large quantities before the blockade policy was issued, can still be seen in the streets and alleys of Rivet Town.

Now, people are watching as the supplies being delivered become less and less, as the supplies that were once enough for a family become barely enough to make ends meet, and as anger among them gradually turns to numbness.

Think about it, a loaf of bread needs to be torn into several pieces to get through the week.

The feeling of being tortured by hunger will never be forgotten once you have experienced it.

In order to survive, the people in the lower districts have no choice but to meet the ever-growing demand for earth marrow in the upper districts.

This also means that from that day on, if the people in the lower areas want to survive, they will inevitably have to work in the mines, and then use the meager supplies exchanged for the earth's marrow to survive.

Even if they can meet their short-term living needs, long-term exposure to the earth's marrow, crystal dust, and noise can still cause serious sequelae of miners' diseases. Now that the lockdown is in place, most people still dare not seek medical treatment even if they are sick.

Most of them simply cannot afford the medical fees, and either rely on their physical fitness to endure the disease or die in an unknown corner.

For the tyrant, the people in the lower class who have lost their freedom and can only bury themselves in the mines, working hard all day to earn a tiny chance of survival are no different from slaves.

She didn't even have to consider whether the people in the lower districts would rebel.

Unilateral information control and the eternal system of rulers make every word of the Great Guardian sound like the words of God.

People don't consider whether they are being deceived. They just think that the people in the lower class are lazy and unwilling to work. At the critical moment of human survival, they ignore the overall situation and insist on fighting among themselves.

At this point, as long as they rely on the earth marrow stored in the upper area to get through a difficult period, the people in the lower area who have no food reserves at all will be in chaos and starving in less than a week.

At that time, the rebellion will come to a tragic end, and the remaining people will "return" to the arms of the Great Guardian. The effective consumption of population will also allow the remaining resources to sustain for a longer period of time, and the rule will no longer be worry-free.

What's even more ridiculous is that this great guardian was once a rising star in the lower district.

She was born here, grew up here, then went to the upper class to study, and then gained glory, but she forgot her roots.

Because of this, Wendy never concealed his dislike for the other party and believed that the lower level area lacked an opportunity.

However, the current underground fire may not make up its mind so easily.

People who lack the chance of turning around and the wind of hope will just hope for stability in their current situation and will not dare to ask for more.