books44 Chapter 216 [Empire] The First Bag of Gold
Chapter 216 [Empire] The First Bag of Gold
However, the road was ultimately bumpy. Fortunately, Yun Changan later fulfilled his original vow for me...
I clutched my newly earned Wave Shells tightly in my cloth bag, feeling a mixture of emotions. Finally, there was a circulating currency on this planet. Actually, you can exchange Interstellar Coins for Wave Shells at the Interstellar Dock, but minors can't. Being a minor is truly a complex matter. Logically, Bai Zhi was an adult, so there shouldn't be any problem exchanging for him. Unfortunately, he was an Alliance Orc and an illegal immigrant, so his status was even worse than mine.
This was completely different from the money earned from handling cargo at the docks or greeting customers with a smile in a teahouse. Each of these shells earned in battle seemed stained with blood and sweat. While not as dangerous, it still had a hint of the life-or-death struggle.
Although the healing magic healed my wounds and restored my skin to its original state, the clothes I'd worn when I was injured remained tattered. The rips, the wear marks, the lumps and bumps of mud and blood... like the scars of battle, terrifying and heartbreaking. In my previous life, someone would have exclaimed, "Wow, this guy must have been hit by a car, yet he managed to stand up? Was he waiting for a Bentley in the wind?"
I suddenly remembered that cat-eyed kid. That mercenary boy, whose obsession with money was practically ingrained in him.
He would snatch up the cheapest student-subsidized nutrient solution from the school cafeteria, a product no one else would buy. He would go through the back alleys of small villages and barter from place to place to obtain coarse cloth clothes handmade by peasant women. He even collected herbs and plants during military training and sold them.
The only important thing he said in his last moments was to tell me to pass the money on to the people he cared about.
It turned out that the money he held so tightly, every penny of which he cherished, was earned with his life. It turned out that what he wanted to pass on to me before his death was his sincere love for the people he cared about.
Using one's own life as a bargaining chip to gain money that can bring warmth to others. This kind of love is really not gorgeous at all.
But deep.
I chuckled to myself. If I really took on this mission, I'm afraid the burden would likely fall on me. I just can't stand seeing those gambling dads, frail moms, seriously ill siblings, and broken families. I can't help but want to teach them a lesson.
Of course, these are just jokes. Luckily, he's not dead. Such feelings truly are like the end of the world. It's not about money or burdens. How heartbreaking would it be to have something and then lose it?
I walked slowly down the street, my thoughts drifting. It was called a street, but it was actually just a dirt road paved with stone slabs.
The clothing store wasn't particularly conspicuous. Its facade was small and old, its wooden frame warped. Above the door hung a crude sign, its writing barely discernible except for the words "Clothing Store."
Walking into the shop, the space inside was very narrow and dimly lit. On some worn and moldy boards were written that you could buy with money or exchange for fabrics.
The walls were covered with various clothes, but most of them were simple, coarse cloth with monotonous colors. The floor was made of rough stone slabs, some of which had cracks, making a slight sound when walking on them.