The Underclass - Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Galaxy returned to Lucia Town. News of the explosion in the snowy mountains had reached the settlement, and mechanical enforcers were preparing to investigate.
To stabilize public morale, loudspeakers blared across the town: "Do not panic! Continue your daily lives! Mechanical officers will guard your safety at all times!"
People who couldn't afford protective gear trudged by in heavy cotton coats, spitting numbly into the snow.
They didn't care about what the future held, because just figuring out how to survive today—and then tomorrow—was already a struggle.
Prices and the wealth gap here were just as extreme as in District A. It only seemed more normal because the technological saturation was lower.
In reality, deep in the alleyways, there were countless taverns and underground casinos for the poor. The rich, no matter how wealthy they already were, always wanted to wring the last coins out of the lower class.
Galaxy drove the wanderer to a tavern deep in an alley. The second floor of the tavern served as an inn.
The beds were made with clean cotton sheets and faded duvet covers that had been washed one too many times.
Having lived in the dark, filthy sewers for so long, Galaxy wasn't picky at all. She collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.
The wanderer closed the door behind her, gripped the syringe Galaxy had handed her, and left.
The rich aroma of butter drifted up from downstairs. Even in her sleep, Galaxy couldn't help but lick her lips.
The neighbor living downstairs in her old tenement building was an old lady who insisted on baking butter-honey bread. Her hands were covered in fine, cracked lines, as if the grease and slickness of the butter had marinated into every crease.
Her bread was delicious, and Galaxy had bought it a few times. However, the old woman had mental issues. Her daughter had died in the acid rain, and after the Federation government flushed her body into the sewers, the old lady went insane. Halfway through selling her bread, she would randomly start screaming curses that nobody could understand.
There were several times when Galaxy had barely gotten the bread before the woman suffered an episode.
Over time, she stopped going. Instead, she just huddled under her blankets, smelling the butter wafting up from downstairs, trying to inhale enough to feel full.
There was a dime a dozen of pitiful tenants in the slums. Galaxy used to empathize with them, even shedding tears for them, but later she grew numb. She became more extreme, more self-centered, and began to hate anyone with money.
Smelling that familiar scent after so long, even her dreams drifted back to that cramped apartment. Her geranium sat above her head, and the dream consisted simply of her lying comfortably in bed playing on her smart-brain, before slowly drifting off to sleep.
It was an incredibly peaceful and cozy scene.
Her consciousness watched coldly from within the dream.
When she woke up, she couldn't quite tell if she had actually slept or not, but her exhaustion was gone. She got out of bed and went downstairs.
The tavern was deafeningly noisy. Galaxy was led to the only table meant for a single person, but the tavern owner forced her to share a table anyway.
Her table-mate was a beautiful red-haired woman with a slight wheat-colored complexion, wearing perfectly applied makeup. Despite the freezing weather, she wore only a loose tank top, revealing lean muscles on her exposed arms.
The woman's gaze was sharp. She looked Galaxy up and down with intense interest, suddenly smiling. "Hello, I'm Fula."
"Galaxy," she replied without hesitation, giving her real name.
Eye contact communicated intentions much faster than words ever could.
Galaxy quietly ate the butter bread and drank the low-alcohol beer she had ordered, feeling a warm glow spread through her stomach.
After finishing, she stood up and headed to her room. Fula followed close behind.
The moment Galaxy stepped into the room, Fula grabbed her wrist, and the two kissed.
Galaxy closed her eyes, experiencing a fiery intensity she hadn't felt in a long time. She leaned against the wall, tilting her head back to throw herself into the struggle with Fula.
Moving from the door toward the bed, Galaxy was pushed down onto the mattress. She wrapped her arms around Fula's neck and bit hard on the corner of her lips.
Fula let out a soft hiss. She looked down at Galaxy, who was staring back with dark, unfathomable eyes, and asked, "What is it?"
"Are the lab results back?" Galaxy asked instead.
"How did you know I was from the organization?" Fula's eyes lit up, displaying far more genuine enthusiasm than before. "Did you figure it out ages ago?"
Galaxy relaxed back against the bed, making no move to create distance between them. She simply answered nonchalantly, "Does it make a difference?"
"Alright, the results aren't back yet," Fula brushed aside Galaxy's messy blonde hair, whispering in her ear. "But the higher-ups sent me to protect you."
Her ear grew hot on instinct. Galaxy said with a hint of mockery, "Protect me like this?"
"Not quite," Fula shook her head. "If you don't want me, I'll leave right now. However, you've really been my idol for a long time. I just came to see if you live up to your reputation."
"And the verdict?" Galaxy asked, raising an eyebrow.
A fanaticism almost identical to Rat King's surfaced in Fula's eyes. She kissed Galaxy's neck and said sincerely, "The aftermath you caused was absolutely staggering. Next time, please be sure to let me join you."
Galaxy let out a soft hum. She didn't reject Fula's kiss. On the contrary, she wrapped herself around Fula, nestling into her embrace, searching for a position where the other woman could cover her completely.
"Sure," she said softly, then called out her name. "Fula... keep going, will you?"
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