This was one of the many air raid shelters in Ternell City. Once a guarantee of people's safety during tis of war, it was now packed with people, just like in its heyday.
Young people had brought in rocks, crates, and old structures to build a makeshift coliseum. Under dim lighting and with pulsating music blaring, countless bodies swayed and danced in the cter, releasing pt up emotions.
Ev in the crowded "dance floor," it was difficult to make out the faces of the people in front of you, as m and wom shed their dayti personas and indulged in the fleeting joys of their youth.
So girls were already topless, screaming and shaking their heads with their eyes half closed, as if lost in a dream. M might grope them, but who cared? By morning, no one would recognize anyone, and that was the true essce of Tropical Jungle.
Release and indulgce. All negative emotions evaporated as soon as you stepped inside.
Morris laughed as he squeezed into the dance floor, pressing against the bodies of young m and wom, reveling in the chaos.
In the distance, from one of the dark tunnels, faint sounds could be heard, masked by the loud music. For these people, this place was heav!
Morris wandered a the dance floor for a while but couldn't find a target. He wasn't interested in the overly wild ones, perhaps due to his lack of education and his respect for intellectuals and high society. He loved educated girls, and at the momt he had them under him, it felt as if he could conquer the world.
With his skills, he would tear through their education, culture, and social standing as if he could dominate the tire universe.
Suddly, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a girl sitting quietly at the edge of the dance floor. She wore glasses and had a long ponytail, giving off an intellectual vibe. Morris didn't know what "intellectual" ant, but he knew one thing: this girl attracted him.
"Alone?" He squeezed over and sat down beside her. The girl glanced at him and shifted away, putting distance betwe them.
"No, my frids are over there," she said, pointing toward the indistinguishable crowd in the dance floor.
Morris scooted closer, sitting right next to her again. "What about ? Can I be your frid, miss?"
Morris had to admit that he had so charm. His flashy outfit and bold deanor could intrigue girls seeking a thrill, especially those who were usually the good, quiet types. The more they were repressed during the day, the wilder they beca here.
The girl scooted ev further away. "I don't like making frids with strangers."
The more she avoided him, the more Morris was intrigued, and the more restless he felt. People have an odd instinct—wh sothing is easily attainable, it loses its allure. But wh faced with resistance, the desire for conquest becos stronger. The thrill of the chase was what really excited Morris.
"My na's Morris. Everyone knows a here!" he said, moving closer again. "See? Now you know my na, so we're frids!"
The girl sneered. "I don't know you, and I don't like people like you. Please, keep your distance."
Morris, usually thick skinned, felt a bit hurt by her repeated rejections. Just as he was debating whether to take a differt approach, the girl's frids returned from the dance floor, likely tired from dancing.
They were all very young, their faces still fresh with the air of academia, untouched by society's harsh realities. Seeing them made Morris feel a pang of jealousy.
He had once be young, but now, not anymore.
One of the boys glanced at Morris and asked the girl, "Is this your frid?"
Before the girl could respond, Morris stood up and extded his hand. "Yes, we're frids. Nice to et you all."
The boy hesitated for a momt, unfamiliar with the adult social etiquette Morris was displaying, but evtually reached out and shook his hand. This small gesture of maturity seed to give the boy a sse of having grown up, and he sat down beside Morris, looking pleased with himself.
"I've never heard Nasha mtion having a frid like you. What's your na?" The boy's innocce amused Morris.
Morris snapped his fingers at one of his followers and, after giving a quick order, turned back to the boy. "I'm Morris. I've got a bit of a reputation in Ternell City. If you ever need help, just let know." As he spoke, Morris's subordinate brought over a bottle of alcohol. Wh the group of studts saw it, their eyes lit up.
Holding the bottle like a trophy, Morris boasted with a smirk, "This is 'Gold Classic.' So places sell it for eighte a bottle!".
Eighte bucks in Ternell was ough to reach the minimum threshold of middle class inco. In other words, this one bottle was worth as much as a middle class person's monthly wage, or two ordinary workers' combined salaries for a month!
With a smooth motion, he popped the cap op and, smiling, asked, "Care for a drink?"
...
At the sa ti, in the most luxurious hotel on King's Avue in Ternell City, Julian was sitting with Kevin, chatting. Most of the ti, Julian was listing while Kevin was speaking.
"We categorize criminal acts into two types…" Kevin paused wh he said this, blinked twice with a smile, and continued, "One type results in serious consequces, and the other does not."
"Gerally, cris without serious consequces, once solved, are handled by the city court betwe 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. on Saturdays. The judge directly decides the punishmt, which is usually several months of labor, and the stce rarely exceeds eighte months."
"For cris that result in serious consequces, have a large societal impact, cause serious injury or death, or bring significant losses to individuals, companies, or ev the governmt, the lawyers on both sides will select a date for a trial. The decision of guilt is left to a citiz jury, while the judge is responsible only for determining the stcing."
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