The sky after the rain displayed a depressing grey.
The slowly eastward-moving cumulonimbus clouds, like a mountain range of gas, blocked the sun from behind.
A subtle odor that mingled excrement and overnight trash permeated the air, nauseating.
At 6 p.m., in front of the Sushi Delivery Logistics Company, several trucks fully loaded with goods were ready to depart.
A large group of day laborers gathered in front of the company warehouse, waiting to receive their wages.
15-year-old Wei Tianyang, carrying a canvas bag, was squeezed among the crowd.
In the crowd of middle-aged men with stubbled faces, his frail and childish appearance seemed out of place.
The logistics company couldn't afford many formal loading and unloading workers, so they hired day laborers on the busiest days of the week.
This was also one of his odd jobs that paid relatively well.
An accountant sat behind a mahogany desk distributing money, the workers called by name stepped forward, received the money, then signed in a register.
The scene was very quiet, with only the sounds of counting money and the pencils scratching on paper.
Watching the banknotes flipping between the accountant's fingers, all the workers pursed their lips, their eyes glazed over.
Wei Tianyang heard the accountant calling his name in a local accent and squeezed to the front of the desk.
The accountant, not looking up, counted the purple notes in his hands, "A total of 3000 Chicken Snake Legal Currency. Sign here."
A stack of thirty 100-denomination purple notes was thrown on the table, but Wei Tianyang did not reach for it.
Behind him, some workers started to urge him impatiently.
Chicken Snake Legal Currency was the official currency of the nations south of East Continent, but everyone commonly used a mix of three currencies—two others were Civilian Coins from Yin Country and Langke from Sethiyan Federation.
The domestic situation was unstable with severe deflation and inflation, and 3000 Chicken Snake Legal Currency was only equivalent to 3 Langke and 20 Civilian Coins.
Most shops in the country no longer listed prices in Chicken Snake Legal Currency, meaning that even within its own country, it had little purchasing power left, nearly becoming worthless paper.
Just two days ago, they paid him in Civilian Coins, and today it switched to legal currency.
Wei Tianyang well understood that the accountant wanted to exploit him, to skim off the top.
"I want Civilian Coins," Wei Tianyang refused.
"Stop being picky! If you don't want the money then get out!" the accountant glared at him and said.
Wei Tianyang's gaze hardened, and he grabbed the accountant by the neck and placed the ballpoint pen from the table against the accountant's throat.
The crowd became restless.
A wave of laughter passed over their heads; several soldiers temporarily brought in to maintain order were enjoying the spectacle from behind.
"What's this? Feeling brave, are you? Who are you trying to scare? Do you think the soldiers behind me are just for show?" the accountant threatened.
"We'll see who loses more," Wei Tianyang retorted unflinchingly.
He forced the pen into the skin under the accountant's jaw, the tip completely sinking into the flesh.
The accountant wanted to use the strength of an adult to counterstrike.
However, he didn't anticipate that the seemingly weak Wei Tianyang had an absurdly strong grip, making it impossible to pry open his right hand that was clasped around his neck.
"Do something! Quick!!"
Realizing that the youngster might really take drastic action, the accountant hastily shouted.
Then the soldiers finally reacted. They unlocked their rifles' safety, pushed through the crowd, and walked towards Wei Tianyang.
At this moment, a small window on the second floor of the warehouse suddenly burst open, and an overweight middle-aged man leaned out.
"Enough! Enough!" he said sternly.
Everyone looked at him.
"Boss... he's causing trouble!" the accountant looked up and said.
The boss, looking displeased, commanded, "Give him the red notes. Speed up and finish handing out the day's wages. I have a ton of things to handle! Hurry up!"
Wei Tianyang released his grip; the accountant, with a look of resentment, reluctantly pulled out two Civilian Coins from the money case and handed them to him.
"20 Civilian Coins, now sign and leave!"
Wei Tianyang fingered the two 10-denomination notes, signed in the register, and turned to leave.
"Hey!"
The boss called after him.
Wei Tianyang looked up at the boss.
"Don't come back here," the boss said coldly.
He smiled and responded with a simple "Okay."
He hadn't walked two steps away when the soldiers stopped him, their fingers rubbing together suggestively.
Wei Tianyang grimaced a smile, pulled out a 10 Civilian Coin note from his wages, and handed it over.
After receiving it, the soldier pocketed it into his military jacket, flashed a toothy smile, and no longer stopped him.
After crossing the street, a fine rain began to fall from the sky.
Wei Tianyang stood at the crossroads, looking towards the warehouse still crowded with day laborers, feeling conflicted.
There weren't many pedestrians on the streets, yet military vehicles frequently passed by, and several conservative faction soldiers, carrying the old RPK machine guns, frequently entered and exited the shops.
He glanced through a window at another shop's wall clock—it was almost 7 p.m.—and quickened his pace towards the rice and grain store.
There were four rice and grain stores in the city, but only East Continent Top Rice and Grain Store sold Yin Country's rice.
90% of the agricultural produce grown in Chicken Snake Country was exported abroad to earn foreign exchange, often causing a short supply of food domestically.
Furthermore, the rice sold domestically was of extremely poor quality, with small and broken grains. A pound of aged rice was mixed with twenty percent rice husks for sale.
Wei Tianyang arrived at the store, looked up to see the sign "East Continent Top Rice and Grain," and pushed open the half-closed wooden door into the dim, the proprietor having turned off the lights to save on electricity.
He entered, and the 50-square-meter room filled with the scent of raw rice; ahead was a counter and a back door leading to the warehouse.
On the left side of the room, two rows of wooden barrels filled with local brown rice stood with a price tag sticking up and a wooden sign beside them: "Chicken Snake Legal Currency not accepted."