He was extremely quiet, a man of few words.
The villagers asked him, "What's your name?"
He answered mildly, "I forgot. Just call me Ben!”
The men in the village were called Rob, Bob, and so on —nicknames that were easier and friendlier to remember.
"What can you do?"
The man shook his head. "I don’t know."
The villagers revealed a look of disdain.
"You're just a pretty boy." Someone spat out these words at him.
He shot a stern gaze at the man, causing him to cower in fright.
After two days and one night on the train, they finally arrived in Imperial Capital.
The villagers paid him no attention and left him at the train station after getting off the train, leaving him to fend for himself.
He looked at the flourishing metropolis, the bustling crowd, and the traffic. This sight seemed to be giving him deja vu.
At this time, a kind villager turned back and took his
hand, saying, "Hurry up, Ben. Don’t let Stan Hitchens and the rest leave you behind. You'll be a beggar if you can't find any jobs."
He followed the villagers and walked for a long time before coming to a dirty construction shed.
At the sight of the dirty ground, he stood outside and was reluctant to go in. The sickening and nauseating feeling was impossible to suppress.
Ultimately, he chose to stand at the door as he looked a t the villagers inside with disgust.
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