It was no surprise at all that when they returned to their shack that night, it had definitely been rummaged through.

“I heard that in the refugee stronghold, people don’t even lock their doors at night, and no one ever steals anything,” Brian Cooper said, carrying his bedding roll, while watching Jason Carter lug that big iron pot everywhere he went—pretty much all their worldly possessions.

Usually, when Brian Cooper went to school, he had to carry his bedding with him, just like the other students. Everyone was used to it by now.

“Bullshit,” Jason Carter said. Although he longed for life inside the refugee stronghold, he absolutely didn’t believe there was any place in the world where people didn’t lock their doors at night. “Some people think that even the farts in the stronghold smell sweet, and the air is like candy.”

“But you can’t just carry that pot everywhere you go,” Brian Cooper said.

“You don’t get it,” Jason Carter explained. “I went through a lot to find this pot. It can be used to cook and to catch sparrows. If we lose it, how are we supposed to get by?”

Jason Carter carried the iron pot on one shoulder and dangled the huge sparrow in his other hand. As they walked down the road, plenty of people cast envious glances at Jason Carter.

After all, in today’s order of species, humans were no longer at the top of the food chain.

People would say that sparrows used to be no bigger than a palm, but now? These things could peck a person to death with one bite.

Not everyone had the ability to catch sparrows, nor the patience to lie in the wilderness for a whole day and night. Most people hadn’t tasted meat in years, so to say they weren’t jealous of Jason Carter would be a lie.

Jason Carter led Brian Cooper to the city gate of the refugee stronghold. The towering walls were incredibly imposing.

Here, the buildings changed; you could even see brick houses.

The closer you got to the stronghold, the cleaner, neater, and wealthier it looked. The people living here all had some connection to the stronghold—maybe they were good at currying favor, or maybe they still had relatives inside.

But no matter what, people like them—the refugees—were all called “the polluted,” and they weren’t allowed inside.

Jason Carter walked into a shop with the words “General Store” written above the door. Inside, they sold cigarettes, matches, ironware, grain, and clothes, but everything was expensive.

The old man inside lit up when he saw Jason Carter. “That’s a big sparrow you’ve got there!”

Jason Carter tossed the sparrow onto the glass counter. “How much?”

“Hey, be careful! That glass is expensive,” Old Martinez said, distressed. Then he tossed the sparrow onto the iron scale nearby. “Three jin and six liang—not bad, Jason.”

At that moment, the abacus in Old Martinez’s hand clattered as his withered, claw-like fingers worked it like clockwork. “Today’s rate is two hundred per jin. That’s about 700 for you!”

“900,” Jason Carter said firmly. “Winter’s coming, and sparrows are getting scarce. 900, not a penny less.”

Old Martinez wasn’t happy. He pushed the abacus toward Jason Carter. “All this goes into the stronghold for the big shots. Sure, they’re short on meat in there, but everything has its price. We have to follow the rules.”

As soon as he finished, Old Martinez saw Jason Carter turn to leave with the sparrow. He quickly grabbed the sleeve of Jason Carter’s tattered coat. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask Old Thompson at the other general store what he’ll pay,” Jason Carter said.

Old Martinez’s grip tightened. The people in charge inside the stronghold had specifically ordered wild game today, and he wasn’t the only one who knew.

Old Martinez broke into a wrinkled smile. “How much do you want for it?”

Jason Carter still wanted to leave. “I’ll check the price first.”

Old Martinez smiled kindly. “But that’ll make Brian late for school. 900 it is!”

“What did you just say?” Jason Carter asked calmly.

“I said it’ll make—”

“And before that?”

“How much do you want for it?”

“1,200.”

Old Martinez: “???”

After a while, Old Martinez reluctantly counted out the money, licking his fingers and counting it over and over, afraid he’d make a mistake.

The final price was 1,198. Jason Carter had made his own concession...

A sparrow sold for 1,198—not just because prices were inflated, or because the sparrow was big, but mainly because wild game was rare in Refugee Stronghold No. 113.

Rarity makes things valuable. Old Martinez wouldn’t do a losing business. He could resell the sparrow to someone powerful and make a tidy profit, maybe even earn a favor.

Old Martinez stuffed a pile of small bills into Jason Carter’s hand, looking pained. Then, as if remembering something, he lowered his voice and said, “Jason, next time you catch a sparrow, don’t kill it right away. Some big shots want them alive—the price is even higher!”

Jason Carter was stunned. “Why do they want them alive? To kill and eat fresh?”

“No,” Old Martinez shook his head. “You don’t get it. Some people want to keep sparrows as pets!”

Chapter 5: School

“Keep them as pets? Not eat them?” Jason Carter was baffled. “What a waste! That’s good meat!”