“Listen, can you understand what I’m saying?” Sarah Bolton grabbed the girl’s shoulders and said, “What’s your name?”

“Woo.” The girl smiled.

“Name? NAME? What language do you speak? What does ‘woo’ mean?” Sarah Bolton was about to lose it.

“Woo woo!” The girl’s smile grew even brighter.

“Alright, if we keep talking, you’ll probably start a train. Looks like you must have hit your head when you fell. I’d better take you to the Public Security Bureau first.” Sarah Bolton sighed, changed clothes, and left the house with “Grace Miller.”

Everyone should have a name, and the girl beside him was no exception. It’s an important mark that distinguishes people from animals, though in this era of dark clouds, many people live worse than animals...

Sarah Bolton called the girl “Grace Miller” because she always spoke in “woo woo woo” sounds, and her skin was as white as snowflakes.

In this world where the sun couldn’t be seen, her smile was like the sun itself, sparkling under the streetlights. She was curious about everything—whether it was a trash can on the street or a drunk lying next to it, she would circle around and examine it for a long time.

If these things could still be described as curiosity, then trying to touch a stray dog covered in green pustules was just asking for trouble.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Don’t touch that! Let’s go! Move! Woof woof!” Sarah Bolton quickly pulled back Grace Miller’s hand, scaring off the disgusting dog in the process.

“Woo?” Grace Miller looked at Sarah Bolton in confusion.

“Don’t touch! Never touch stray animals on the street. They eat anything—sometimes leftovers, sometimes even people who died of illness. The scariest thing is, they eat discarded nuclear waste. They’ve mutated and are radioactive. Absolutely don’t touch them, or you’ll die!” Sarah Bolton lectured her like a child.

“Woo!” Grace Miller smiled so brightly.

“Did you really understand?” Sarah Bolton frowned in doubt.

“Woo woo woo!” Grace Miller nodded.

“Good girl, let’s go.” Sarah Bolton took Grace Miller’s hand and tried to keep walking, but Grace Miller stopped and wouldn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah Bolton asked, puzzled.

“Woo, woo woo, woo woo woo!” Grace Miller looked at her own stomach, then at a noodle shop by the roadside.

“You’re hungry?” For the first time, Sarah Bolton accurately understood what Grace Miller meant.

A noodle shop—this was the most common and cheapest food in this era and city. The noodles were made from genetically modified, regenerated rice, and compared to the pure, organic food the nobles ate, the texture was about as good as eating plastic.

As for the meat sauce used in these little shops, most of the meat scraps came from who-knows-where, greasy and rancid, requiring a ton of soy sauce to mask the taste, making it unbearably salty.

Only those at the very bottom of society, and Sarah Bolton, would eat here often. But Grace Miller ate with great joy.

Chapter Four: I Am a Big Idiot

How could you imagine that a girl weighing barely 80 jin (about 40 kg) could eat so much! It was just artificial grain noodles with meat sauce, barely better than pig slop, yet she ate six bowls in a row.

When she downed the greasy soup in one gulp and held up her bowl to Sarah Bolton with a “woo woo woo,” Sarah Bolton could only think, are you sent by heaven to eat me out of house and home?

Finally, after finishing her ninth bowl, Grace Miller walked out of the little shop completely satisfied, the happiness at the corners of her mouth as innocent as a child.

“You must be a rich family’s young lady. Otherwise, with an appetite like yours, you wouldn’t survive past age three in a poor family.” Sarah Bolton sighed, pushing up his glasses.

“Woo.” Grace Miller didn’t understand a word Sarah Bolton said, but she naturally took his hand. Her hand was so soft, as delicate as cotton candy, while his was so warm, like the sun melting Grace Miller’s heart.

“What a strange young lady. Let’s go.” Sarah Bolton felt a bit embarrassed, blushing as he held Grace Miller’s hand and walked forward.

A scruffy-looking young man walking with a delicate beauty in the lowest part of town—this wasn’t called showing off your love, it was called suicide. In every dark alley, at any moment, a man could be killed and a girl assaulted.

But when Sarah Bolton hung his Ba Wang Group manager-level work ID on his chest, it was as if he was protected by a protagonist’s halo. Even local thugs two meters tall with tattoos on their eyeballs would steer clear at the sight of him.

Because in this era, the so-called federal government was basically a shell. The seven major conglomerates had taken over all the administrative functions of local governments, monopolizing everything in their regions—even the law.

And Ba Wang Group was the most powerful of the seven. This Third Federal City of Gete was their territory; from the police station to the courts to the prisons, all were their departments. To mess with someone from Ba Wang Group was like a dog biting its own master—and that dog’s fate would be worse than ending up in a hot pot.

Maybe the world under the dark clouds was hell, but Sarah Bolton knew that as long as he had a Ba Wang work ID, he lived in paradise. And the Grace Miller before him must be an angel in this paradise, untouched by the world...

That’s why she didn’t know how to button her clothes, licked ice cream all over her mouth, and greeted the people in holographic ads with “woo woo.”