When the Spirit Ruins first began to appear, I was running a street stall.
While others sold grilled skewers and socks, I laid out little glowing bottles on my cloth: three yuan a bottle for gene drinks that could let you punch the monsters in the alley clean off their feet.
The city inspectors came to check on me? I turned around and helped a policewoman catch a wall-phasing phantom with a psionic patch.
A crime boss tried to rob my stall? I pulled out something that looked like a pocket watch, and his men switched sides on the spot.
Later, as the Spirit Ruins grew ever wider, I discovered that my lousy little stall could actually keep humanity alive.
