The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 106

The night once again shrouded Old Dunling, with the moonlight only revealing a faint brightness amidst the gloom, slightly illuminating the heavy leaden gray sky. In the icy cold wind, a colossal steel whale swam through the clouds of the night sky, its blinding beams slicing through and stirring the murky mist below.

Hig walked the misty streets, obscured in the winter dampness that Old Dunling was infamous for. Steam gushed from the underground pipes, the still-warm vapor creating a thin veil of fog, making the cold unavoidable.

His cheeks were gaunt, and he staggered as if he had lost his soul.

This wasn't his usual path home. Under the streetlight's gaze, Hig struggled with the turmoil inside him, as though another voice was whispering in his ear, urging him toward the abyss of sin.

"Damn it! Damn it!" Hig suddenly cursed, his pale, sickly face twisted in unbearable rage. He kicked at a nearby streetlamp, its iron clangs ringing out. After a moment, he seemed to calm down, his ugly reflection staring back at him from the shallow, dirty water at his feet.

For a moment, he was stunned, unable to believe that the person in the water was himself. Then a painful wail emerged from his throat. He stumbled into the corner of the street and collapsed by a heap of garbage, clutching his hair and curling up.

Passersby paid him no attention. People like Hig were many in Old Dunling. Every day, many succumbed to the pressure. Some chose to leave the suffocating city, while others fell into depravity, making the Lower District their new home.

In the darkness, Hig slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with exhaustion, like a man near death.

He was in great pain, excruciating pain.

Contrary to what Lloyd thought, Hig hadn't been working overtime at the factory. He had been fired long ago, after his boss caught him using hallucinogens.

The factory was vying for the production of a new type of steam tram, competing against several other factories. In secret, they had engaged in multiple clashes, even sending journalists to infiltrate and report on the working conditions, manipulating public opinion. The boss, fearful of being exposed, had fired Hig without hesitation. The official stance on hallucinogens was harsh, and the boss didn't want to risk losing the lucrative deal over something so small.

So Hig was unemployed, simply because he used hallucinogens. Yet, every mechanic in the factory used them, believing they transported them to a heavenly realm, a perfect escape from the oppressive heat of the factory.

Initially, Hig couldn't believe it. He tried to stay, but the security guards threw him out mercilessly. He wandered the streets for a long time before he stumbled back to Cork Street.

It was a drastic fall. One moment, he was a proud mechanic; the next, he was a street wanderer. Hig tried to find work elsewhere, but no one wanted a mechanic who used hallucinogens. In Old Dunling, where the world's first steam engine was born, mechanics were everywhere.

It was a terrible day.

Hig's background wasn't good. He was born into a modest family. To pursue his dream of becoming a mechanic, he worked in a bakery for a long time, saving every penny for a train ticket to Old Dunling.

He still remembered that feeling. Leaning out of the train window, watching the scenery fly by, he felt no sorrow at leaving home, only uncontrollable joy.

Hig left, and to him, the world was divided into two parts: his childhood town and the new world beyond the train tracks. Like a stray dog rushing into the unknown, he didn't care about anything that lay ahead.