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On the truck, Leonard Churchill sat quietly in the corner.

Having established his “loner” persona, his colleagues took no notice of him and carried on with their conversations.

“Boss, where’s this mission taking us?”

“There was a violent worker dispute at the Gunpowder Factory. Over a dozen individuals died. I heard the explosion was massive; it’s going to be a tough job…”

“Man, I don’t know what got into the union recently, causing a ruckus and organizing protests. People are dying every day, and I can’t see what they hope to achieve.”

“So, I heard a business conglomerate from the Upper City has opened a factory offering a monthly wage of nearly 4,000. It’s much higher than most places. The gang initially believed this was a scam so barely anyone was interested. But soon, those who took the risk received their pay, and people from other factories started making a fuss. The Union is under immense pressure from the gang now…”

“Yeah, my buddy is a ‘wall painter.’ The gang recently assigned him a mission, ending up assassinating several leading instigators…”

“Factory workers earning 4,000? Dang… If so, our salaries as Corpse Collectors should get a hike too.”

Leonard Churchill found none of these discussions surprising anymore.

The workers were one of the largest sources of unrest in Sinless City recently.

After the assassination of Stan Miller, the Federation Council members realized that using brute force alone would not allow them to control the troublesome Sinless City.

Meanwhile, the tycoon businessmen had a more future-focused vision, and much more sophisticated strategies.

They were aware that once the Old Continent was developed on a large scale, Sinless City would become a pivotal city. Hence, they began seizing various resources in the city right from the start.

With their enormous wealth, they bought shares in, invested in, and built numerous factories.

The tycoons, with their deep pockets, to monopolize the resources and squeeze out smaller workshops in a short period of time, offered salaries that were two to three times higher than market rates to lure workers.

The sudden influx of money caused conflicts among Sinless City’s lower classes to shift from a united front against external forces to internal struggles.

Take, for example, the Gold-digging Dock.

Although the only passage to the Old Continent, the Gold-digging Dock, was controlled by gangs, the actual work was carried out by common workers.

Originally, because the work was risk-free, the pay was low.

Porters only received 3,000 a month.

But when somebody starts offering 6,000, who are you going to work for?

It’s more unusual for there not to be trouble.

This is an overt scheme.

Even when the plan is exposed, there’s nothing to be done.

Are the gangs in Sinless City going to match wages with the tycoons?

Eventually, people got a taste of the sweet deal and slowly were consumed by it.

Now it’s impossible to stop it.

The lower class are never a match for politicians when it comes to power play and economics.

The large influx of easy money resulted in skyrocketing prices in Sinless City. People had to pursue higher wages to survive, increasing the conflict.

But this is an Extraordinary World, where power rules over politics.

Originally, the tricks employed by businessmen were not so ruthless, or at least not everyone was far-sighted enough.

Yet, as if an invisible force was stirring things up from the shadows, key players were deliberately steering the pandemonium to escalate.

Leonard Churchill recognized a familiar pattern in the recent upheavals.

Like the maze of the Grand Graveyard, a few pieces of information were enough to bury the Miller Family’s path to governorship.

No “mastermind” was ever seen from start to finish.

This time’s turmoil was no different.

Clearly, behind these disturbances, a master hand had been laying out a plan.

If things continue this way, it won’t take long before the various classes of Sinless City will enter into conflict and split up, even without the aristocrats sending any lords to forcibly suppress them.

This sort of manipulation, in an age of abundant information, was all too familiar to Leonard Churchill.

However, he also thought it was pretty good.

From the intel he gathered, the mysterious “Old Continent” is a place where legend and myth truly exist.

That is the real pursuit.

Leonard Churchill was intrigued by the mystery of such places.

It would certainly be nice if it were developed sooner.

In a short while, the steam truck reached the Gunpowder Factory.

The turmoil here had subsided, leaving a desolate scene for the Corpse Collectors to clean up.

Leonard and his party got off the truck and began their usual routine of gathering the corpses.

Initially, this was a typical Field Mission, collecting limbs, sprinkling potions, bagging the bodies, and loading them onto the truck.

But no one expected a strange event to occur.

While they were collecting the remains, suddenly, the surrounding light brightened.

It wasn’t the faint glow of gas lamps.

It was a brilliant, silvery white glow.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Quick, look! What’s that in the sky!”

Leonard was drawn to the light as well. He looked up and was taken aback.

It was an unusual celestial occurrence.

Was that…

The moon?

Leonard squinted his eyes.

Unknown to anyone, a moon had appeared in the sky!

How could there be a moon in the Underground City?

He rubbed his eyes thinking he might have seen it wrong.

But on closer inspection, the bright sphere in the sky was indeed a sliver of a moon!

Leonard looks at it, shrinking his eyes, a big question in his mind: “What’s going on here…”

Although the space in the Underground City was vast, it was still not large enough to accommodate such a huge celestial body.

What the eye perceives may not always be real, most likely it was some form of optical projection.

“How did they do that?”

Leonard observed for a while but couldn’t determine the source of the projection.

To the naked eye, the moon appeared real, suspended in an endless dark space.

Furthermore, there was something magical about watching the moon that gave a sense of pleasure to one’s spirit.

Leonard felt this sensation was strangely familiar..