NOVPUBPedaling his bicycle, Martin embarked on his quest.
Riverland was vast.
Covering an area of 82,400 square kilometers, nearly the size of some smaller states, it boasted a permanent population of over thirty million.
Martin never imagined he could explore its entirety on his bicycle in a short span – that was simply unrealistic.
He initially ruled out the city center and other bustling areas. With the crowds and prying eyes, setting up headquarters there would be too conspicuous.
Next, he eliminated the counties and remote areas under Riverland’s jurisdiction – they were too numerous and too distant to monitor effectively.
Thus, his focus narrowed to areas neither too close nor too far from the city center, regions that economically stood on the second or third tier.
Coincidentally, the Hillside Neighborhood where Martin resided fit this description.
Going by proximity, this was the first area he decided to explore.
One day...
Two days...
He was seen weaving through the streets of Riverland on his bicycle.
Martin had never really observed the city this way.
Before, he was either cooped up indoors coding or rushing through streets delivering food.
Now, taking the time to truly observe, the city’s undulating terrain, the culture hidden within its streets, and its globally recognized fantastical architecture, all held a captivating charm.
However, the looming threat of a monstrous invasion cast a shadow over his heart.
He set down the kickstand, steadying his bike, and walked to the roadside.
Night had fallen, and he stood on a winding road that snaked up a mountain.
Gazing into the distance, skyscrapers stood tall, their lights flickering like stars, presenting an entrancing view.
"What a beautiful city, what a wondrous world," he murmured with a hint of melancholy.
The thought of such a world being ravaged by monsters was truly a heart-wrenching prospect.
Furthermore...
Martin was an orphan, raised by the state, nurtured by the taxpayers’ money, and sustained by the hard work of the people on this land.
The teachers at the orphanage had imparted many life lessons to him.
And so, even amidst adversity, he always held onto hope.
Martin was deeply grateful to those who had cared for him, for they ensured he didn’t perish from hunger as an infant and allowed him to experience the wonders of this world.
Suddenly, a commotion caught his attention.
Under the streetlight, a mother who had just finished work was greeted by her waiting son.
Seeing the child joyfully hop around his mother, Martin offered a gentle smile and gazed into the distance:
If he had the chance, he would protect this world with all he had.
For himself, and for... others.
...
Late at night.
Martin pushed his bike slowly, making his way home.
The path was scarcely populated, offering a tranquil ambiance.
The cool evening breeze was refreshing, and in the hidden recesses of the surrounding woods, only the lights from various factories twinkled.
Such was Riverland, with its unpredictable terrains. Cycling here often meant that one spent more time pushing the bike uphill than actually riding it.
Having cleared the uphill stretch, Martin was about to mount his bicycle and pedal onward when a sudden sensation made him frown.
Instantly, he extended his senses outward.
But... nothing was amiss!
An illusion?
For a split second, he thought he’d sensed a very faint and nebulous fluctuation of spirit power.
But after waiting a few minutes in silence, everything remained as it was.
"It must’ve been my imagination," he thought.
Shaking his head, Martin pedaled away.
An hour later, just as he parked his bike downstairs, he heard Vivian’s voice from behind.
"You’re back?"
Turning, Martin saw Vivian in her professional attire approaching.
Her slender waist and graceful gait reminded him of a perfectly ripe peach, tempting and full of allure.
"Out so late tonight?"
Vivian looked somewhat downcast and nodded wearily:
"Yes, I had to work overtime. The torrential rain caused landslides everywhere, and our company’s cold chain logistics faced issues. Customers who ordered fresh goods were causing scenes at our outlets below."
Martin didn’t probe further.
The two then headed upstairs to their respective apartments.
It was evident Vivian was in low spirits.
As she entered, she immediately kicked off her heels, her stockings softly brushing the floor as she opened her bedroom door, and then she collapsed onto her bed.
Moments later, she clutched a large plush toy next to her, burying her face deep into it.
Standing at the entrance to his own room, Martin hesitated for a moment before deciding to close Vivian’s bedroom door for her.
As the door was almost shut —
"Martin," her voice quivered, "do you think ordinary folks like us, trying to achieve something in our careers, are destined to endure endless hardships?"
Her shaking shoulders revealed her sobs.
Martin remained silent.
After a while, he softly said, "It’s late. Get some rest."
He then closed the door gently.
In the darkness, Vivian wept for a bit before calming down, staring blankly at the old ceiling above her.
Working meant constant challenges and frustrations.
She thought she had grown accustomed to it, but she realized her resilience was only skin deep.
There was a fleeting desire to quit, find a wealthy man, marry him, and simply become a pampered wife.
However, finding a good and wealthy man isn’t as simple as one might think.
And, more importantly, there’s a lingering reluctance.
Vivian wasn’t naive. She knew if she ended up with the wrong man, life might be affluent but not necessarily joyful.
She told herself to persevere a little longer.
Her thoughts drifted back to Martin.
If it had been another man with ulterior motives, he might have tried to take advantage of her vulnerability with sweet talk.
"He’s a good person. Just a bit too straightforward, and... well..."
Deep down, Vivian knew she couldn’t see a future with Martin.
Their combined salaries wouldn’t afford the life she yearned for.
Martin remained oblivious to Vivian’s intricate thoughts.
Given his nature, even if he were aware, he wouldn’t have dwelt on it.
