8:00 PM.
Evernight Harbor had completely merged into the night, leaving only the colorful lights floating up and down on the water's surface.
Yarman, standing by the window, had a trace of worry on his brow and sighed softly.
"It's becoming more and more unstable here lately."
Gang fights, addictive substances, power-money transactions... good people were either forced into being bad or died in despair, whether they were Weilante people or aliens.
He had been here for less than a week, and almost every day he witnessed terrible things or heard terrible news.
Yet, when he opened the newspaper, all he saw was the proud Weilante people striding from one victory to the next, with not a word about the problems they were encountering.
The news and reality were like two parallel lines that never intersected; the more he read, the more he felt the disconnect.
