December 14th.

Last night, Akneids saw its first snow of the year.

After asking the cat lady for directions to the morning shift, Peter tightened his cloak and headed for the nearest bus stop at the Adventurer's House.

The first glow after the snow.

The finches stand on the branches, the snow is shaken off, and the morning sun reflects the sea level, sprinkling the morning light on the shoulders of those who get up early to work. Citizens yawned, carried bread or sandwiches, and hot coffee smoked as they hurried to their lives.

The snow on the road was piled aside by the cleaners in the early hours of the morning, and the clean road surface once again refreshed Peter's understanding of the developed level of the southern continent country.

A magic-assisted steam railroad runs through the city, and Peter plans to take the train to the adventurers' guild on the other side of the city to purchase crystal balls and other items.

Each bus station has a map of the entire city, with the location of the stops marked with bold red dots, so that even those who are illiterate can see it at a glance.

There are not many people waiting for the bus at the station.

After all, it is not a public transport on the planet, and the trains here are operated by private companies, and they have to pay for themselves.

Ordinary people can't afford to commute by train, and they often choose it when they go far away.

After all, compared to chocobo running long distances, rail trains are still cheaper.

The outer city is not densely packed with rail lines, just stations between several important landmarks, and the Adventurers' Guild is one of them.

In contrast, the lines of the inner city were much denser, and he studied them with great interest.

When he was in the Northern Continent country, he had only seen rail trains in the royal capital, and the frequency of operation and the length of the line were completely incomparable to that of Akneiz.

Of course, even Akneiz can't compare with the convenience of public transportation in his hometown. The train runs every hour and a half, and it is not allowed to enter the station at the point, and if it is full of passengers when entering the station, it will not stop, and you will wait for the next one, and you will not sit.

The time came to nine o'clock, and finally waited for the train to enter the station.

The steam locomotives and railroad tracks in the heavy industrial style sparked brilliant sparks, the chimneys spewed steam, and the train driver poked his head out of the cab and rang the bell that symbolized the stationing of the train.

There are five carriages in total, and you can sit at will, Peter picked a relatively clean seat, and there are not many people who take the train in the morning, all of them are middle-aged people carrying large bags and small bags.

Five minutes after the train docked, the bell rang again and departed.

A seventy or eighty-year-old flight attendant walked slowly to check the ticket, the ticket was bought in advance when entering the station, and sat at the adventurer's guild station for two silver coins and four pence, and the old man of the flight attendant took the scissors and cut off half of the ticket stub after checking the ticket, and the other half was verified and cut out when leaving the station.

Peter leaned against the window and enjoyed the view.

The streetscape of Aknaise whizzes through the window, and it's a novel experience, as if you're in London in the second half of the 19th century, but with a twist.

Magical hubs that convey magical power line the city like iron towers, and as the train moves deeper into the city's hinterland, the buildings become denser and denser. When passing through a market in the lower city, the train drove straight in.

Seeing the train spewing steam as it approached, the vendors emptied the goods placed on the railroad tracks, and when viewed from above, it was as if the zipper had been unzipped to free up the tracks for the train to pass.

When the train passes, the zipper closes again, the crowd returns, and the track returns to a bustling market street.

As the train passed the third station, a Sven man with glasses got on the train and, when he found that the seats were full, sat across from Peter.

It only took a moment for Peter to look at him, and Peter was no longer curious.

'Magician...'

He was tall, well-dressed, with slightly curly brown hair draped behind his head, and a classic Caucasian Caucasian look.

The man's left hand wears a stout bone ring engraved with inscriptions, and it was this ring that sparked Peter's speculation.

The Bone Ring is of the same type as Peter's Ring of Defense, but it is clear that the one in his hand is much higher than the one Peter bought from the auction house, and one may be worth five of them.

The magicians of this world belong to a combination of high-level intellectuals and capitalists, and they can't play anything less.

Both of them got off at the Adventurer's Guild Station and happened to be walking together for a while.

The man walked through the guild gate, and Peter turned left and headed for the magic shop introduced by the coachman.

The Adventurers' Guild building resembles a giant white sail. Twelve groups of white lattice glazed porcelain textures, like dragon scales, form the main body of the building, the joints are connected by glass, and steel cables connect the shellfish structure with the keel-like sail at the highest point, which is extraordinary.

Such a building, even if placed in any city on the planet, can become an Internet celebrity check-in point.

The architects of this world are bursting, after all, they can only engage in art without mobile phones, and the achievements brought by painting cannot be enjoyed during their lifetime, and music and opera are toys for the rich, but architecture is different.

Elegant and vulgar appreciation, built well to become famous, built badly also has a project club tender model, after all, in any world to engage in civil engineering is a quick way to get rich.

Behind the Adventurers' Guild is a large park, and across the park is Peter's destination, the Adventurer's Market.

The park is a history of adventurers in Acneiz, after all, there was once a brave man, and a silver sculpture of the second brave man was erected on the fountain in the middle of the park.

Peter looked up, and the brave man rode and held a sword, quite heroic.

There are also portraits of various members of the brave squad around the park, all of them are beautiful women, and those who don't know think they have entered the Louvre.

If the real thing is based on the picture, the second brave is indeed so cool that it makes people jealous.

Underneath the sculptures and carefully cut precious greenery, there are also adventurers.

They slept in the park on a cold day, sleeping on chairs and on the grass without chairs, and they all looked like they were taking drugs and were drugged, and their faces were sluggish and haggard.

Peter was not surprised, he had been here for three years, and he knew what the so-called adventurer was.

It's not the same as the stereotype given by the drama of another world.

To put it bluntly, it is a 100% pure-blooded street slicker who is a 100% pure-blooded street runner who is a vagrant, the god of Internet cafes, and the social instability of the United States, and a magical group that combines all the characteristics of people who hate dogs, and takes the dross and removes its essence.

Ninety-five percent of the adventurers are below the silver level of the bottom of the day, these people have no combat effectiveness, dangerous tasks can not be accepted, complex tasks and no brains, can only squat every day to work as a security guard or find a part-time worker, earn money is either used to prostitute or fly leaves, the main one to survive today do not ask about the future.

After all, this world is not a highly developed earth with high productivity, and there are a large number of such people in every country under the feudal and backward monarchy, who are unwilling to work honestly, and have low eyes, but they can't be resettled, so they are all brought to be adventurers, at least they can do some work without being starved to death.

This also leads to the fact that the adventurer is almost hooked up with the hooligans, and there is no romance at all.

Peter remembers that there is no such thing as an adventurer in the game. In the game's Dark Ages, Adventurer is a title of honor that celebrates the brave who stepped into the dark wasteland for the continuation of humanity.

He has some vague speculations about today's civilization, but there is still a lack of evidence, and the study of history must be on the agenda.