Lamps brightened under the fading sunset while two apprentices bickered beside a cart about exam results neither seemed to enjoy. Hajin slipped past the quarrel as its driver begged a stubborn mule to stop treating the intersection like a bedroom.
After Allen's office, even that squabble sounded wonderfully, stupidly ordinary to his ears.
Juna prowled beside his shoulder toward the lodging district, sniffing at every closing stall that might still be serving.
"That one's still frying something," she announced, nose pointed at a cart without slowing down.
"That one's frying lard and regret, keep walking."
The first donation chimed across his awareness, and he flicked the broadcast panel open without losing sight of the street.
[ CringeSlayer91 donated | 5,000 credits ]
[ CringeSlayer91: Registered Ranker at last, that calls for a proper celebration ]
[ ShadowMage44 donated | 2,000 credits ]
