Bola looked at Lorenzo with confusion, not understanding why this guy suddenly brought up these things.
Lorenzo gazed out the window, where behind the hazy curtain of rain lay the city he had lived in for over seven years.
Seven years ago, Lorenzo arrived in Old Dunling from the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom to Ingwig. To be honest, that journey was far from pleasant. He had just experienced the Night of the Holy Arrival and had personally laid to rest those he knew. There was no joy in welcoming a new life, only pain to the point of numbness.
Lorenzo remembered staggering into Old Dunling, but without a proper identity, he was rejected. Like most foreigners, he ended up in the Lower City District. For the ruthless people of the Lower City District, a newcomer foreigner like Lorenzo still held some value.
