The Speaking Pork Trotter

In the neon of blue and purple, under the thick steel sky, at the forefront of this surge of data, lies the world post-tech revolution.
It's also the dividing line between reality and illusion.
Steel and flesh, past and future.
In this place, the world outside and inside coexist. Everything in front of us feels like a wall of time within reach.
The darkness is slowly creeping in.
But hey, my friend, you gotta know, we can't just counter darkness with softness.
Gotta use fire.

Naming Technique of the Night

Lordbluefire

In City #18, there were only three people inside a quiet bar.


"Is this real whiskey or fake?" March looked at the amber-colored whiskey in the glass and asked Li Dongze beside her.


Li Dongze was still wearing his exquisite suit and vest, with the pocket watch chain on his chest polished bright. His shoes had just been polished as well.


No matter when and where, this Godfather of the Heng Society lived meticulously.


He looked at the glass and said, "...fake whiskey."


March looked at Li Dongze, displeased: "You're serving me fake whiskey?"


Li Dongze patiently explained: "The tobacco and alcohol businesses within the Federation are monopolized, and no one is properly brewing wine. Unless it's specially supplied to the residences of various consortiums, the quality is even worse than this fake whiskey I have here. Don't worry, the industries under Heng Society are all legitimate brewing companies; we just can't get a brewing license."


634, Black Coffin