The night in Nagariel is extrely dark, and the stars are exceptionally bright. Unlike the Bail Federal, where the colorful neon lights at night obscure the natural colors of the sky.
The brilliant starry sky is reflected on the curtain of the night sky. When people gaze at the multitude of stars, they inevitably beco captivated and overwheld by its magnificence!
Asir looked out at the tranquil night through the transparent glass window, but his mind was in turmoil.
After all, they are different, the civilized world and the savage world are fundantally different!
In fact, before he returned, he had ntally prepared himself, but he was still caught off guard.
The Nagariel he rembered seed to have disappeared; his mories of the past beca vague, with most of them being happy monts—finding joy amidst the pain.
The pleasure generated from pain allows one to rember for longer, so his mories of his hotown are relatively positive and cheerful, seemingly intentionally erasing those unpleasant facts.
In the years he’s lived in the Federation, he has gradually adapted to being a civilized person in a civilized world. Although the Federation has many disgraceful aspects, covert and overt discrimination, it is ultimately a civilized country.
They use things like laws to protect all the weak and restrain the strong, even if people are rotten to the core; at least on the surface they maintain nobility.
He had begun to adapt, even though it might not be an ideal country.
But here in Nagariel, it seems nothing has progressed, savagery remains.
Police wielding clubs to beat and drive away pedestrians just to ease the passage of the nobles’ cars, when they should actually protect the public, but they don’t do so.
Demolishing others’ houses to expand their yard and driving them away, boasting about such things as a bragging topic; what kind of cold-hearted person could do such things?
Just because he habitually said "thank you," his father and elder brother suspected his elder brother’s wife of seducing him, resulting in that poor woman being forced to offer herself at night to satisfy the brothers’ desires...
It’s terrifying, too barbaric!
Once soone has started learning and accustod to sitting beside a table with a tablecloth, using exquisite utensils to enjoy ticulously prepared food, it’s hard to accept a life of raw flesh and blood.
Seeing those bloody pieces of at sickens him, seeing those corpses nauseates him, even putting food into his mouth makes him sick.
He didn’t know when he fell asleep. The next day, no one woke him up, and he slept until almost eleven o’clock before getting up.
In Nagariel, apart from a few people having jobs in factories, most engage in freelance work or farming. Overall, the pace of life isn’t fast. As long as they aren’t afraid of being hungry, sleeping until noon or even the afternoon is acceptable.
After getting up, Asir was tornted again by the stale and body odor in his nostrils. He changed his clothes, feeling that his body also carried this stench. When he ca out of the bedroom, walked downstairs, and stood at the doorway, his expression suddenly froze.
His eldest brother’s wife had been hung from a tree in the courtyard by soone, with Asir’s brothers watching. His elder brother was whipping that poor woman.
Each lash was loud, and the woman silently endured it, biting her lip until it bled. Her eyes were sowhat vacant, as if she might faint at any mont.
Asir’s mother and the other brothers’ wives were kneeling to the side, witnessing this sowhat ritualistic punishnt in its entirety.
When the last lash was struck, Asir’s elder brother put away the whip, casually handing it to the brother beside him. He glanced indifferently at the hung woman and untied the rope binding her hands.
The woman slumped to the ground, and a few seconds later, she struggled to prop herself up, kneeling in front of Asir’s elder brother. Her hands were turned palms down on the ground as she kissed her husband’s toes, finally resting her forehead against the ground.
This is a standard procedure for a woman to atone for her wrongdoings, but only for won. Asir’s elder brother shrugged his shoulders, his arm and shoulder were sore from using the whip. He turned around and saw Asir.
His cold face filled at once with a genuine smile, a smile that Asir recognized because he had worn it on his own face before.
"My brother, did you sleep well?" He approached Asir, opening his arms and giving him a warm hug, but the embrace didn’t provide Asir any warmth.
Asir’s expression was delayed for about a second or two before he responded, "Very well, when I was outside, I always thought about ho, and returning feels quite good..."
His brother nodded without comnting, "Of course, ho is the best. This is your ho, and you have us..." he said while wrapping an arm around Asir’s shoulders, leading him into the house.
As they walked, he continued, "Let’s have lunch first, after lunch I’ll take you to our factory, maybe you’ll be interested in these things."
This sentence indeed captured Asir’s attention. He had not expected that his father and these brothers, who had barely been to school, would actually have a factory. His profession made him sowhat sensitive, and he asked casually, "What kind of business is the factory in?"
"Recycling and processing!" Asir’s elder brother proudly said as they walked into the hall, "We’ve made so connections, this business isn’t easy, and we’ve spent quite a bit of money on it..."
From his introduction, Asir finally understood that the money he sent back over the years was not saved by them or squandered on entertainnt.
When so people have certain traits or qualifications, soone will co to them to make money.
Ever since Asir’s father began bragging about his son becoming a "foreigner," he gradually gained so fa locally, and so people approached him.
No society can absolutely operate in a way planned by rule-makers. There are always so outliers, and there are such people in Nagariel, like opportunists.
They are unsatisfied with the status quo and want to change their situation. As long as they don’t break the rules of Nagariel, they will find ways to make money and then improve their status.
The people who found Asir’s father are such a group. They have no fa, but they spotted a business opportunity and wanted Asir’s father to represent them.
They didn’t need Asir’s father to put in any extra money and could enjoy half the inco from the business!
Asir’s father didn’t take long to agree, as at the very least, he could ensure that even if they were frauds, he wouldn’t lose anything.
This business is just about recycling.
Every year, religious activities give rise to a large amount of "goldware." These gold artifacts are not entirely made of pure gold; so are coated with a layer of gold, while others mix gold ground into fine powder with so paint and apply it to the surface of utensils.
The forr is often the way of the wealthy, while the latter is the choice of slightly well-off families, with more detailed distinctions within this.
The number of tis the gold paint is applied also represents different family statuses. Ordinary families offer "goldware" to the deities that are not only small but also painted with gold only once.
Wealthier families will offer larger "goldware," with the gold paint applied multiple tis, ranging from a few to dozens of layers.
The gold-plated "goldware" is easy to handle; just tear off the outermost layer of gold. But the gold deposited as paint on the surface is not easy to deal with.
It’s not that these things aren’t valuable—they are certainly not cheap—but if you say they are overly expensive, that might be pushing it.
Plus, the recycling thod is quite troubleso, so the various temples don’t handle these items themselves. They package these "goldware" items and send them to so recycling factories to handle them.
When we say factories, we really an workshops of varying sizes.
In the past, people recycled gold paint by breaking everything down and sifting out the lower layers of higher purity gold powder through natural stratification, then slting it into Gold Ingots.
These days such problems are easier to solve as, with the developnt of foreign technology, so chemical substances are gradually appearing in Nagariel.
With a type of chemical reagent that is banned for civilian use and abuse in many countries internationally, one can effortlessly decompose the chemical components in the gold paint, causing the gold to settle at the bottom.
Upon hearing this, Asir’s expression turned grave. He quickly finished his al and, with his elder brother, drove to the factory.
From over a hundred ters away from the factory, a pungent sll could be sensed. When they parked the car in the yard and saw workers handling various chemicals without any protective asures, Asir felt deeply moved.
The people showed no emotional fluctuation on their numb faces; they didn’t even care about their festering or already deford-looking hands, rely repeating their work.
Those hands, bleached and skin ulcerated by chemicals, moved in and out of various liquids, and Asir’s heart suddenly felt as if sothing was seized tightly.
His brother seed oblivious to the change in Asir’s expression and continued enthusiastically introducing everything, even bringing Asir to the office to introduce him to others inside and opening the safe for him.
The safe was filled with neat square bricks of gold—gold bricks, though they should actually be called gold sheets, only about half a centiter thick, palm-sized, and exuding a heartbeat-quickening luster.
"Look, this is our business!" In a boastful tone, there was not a trace of respect for life in the man before him.
A familiar yet unfamiliar country.
A familiar yet unfamiliar group of people.
The only unchanging thing might be the essence of the pursuit of profit!
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