Misha had never thought she would ever encounter a ’free’ Terran again, not after a long time.
She couldn’t believe her eyes at first.
After all, for the past several months, for as long as she had stayed here, all the Terrans she had met were captured slaves.
Many would be in horrible, abused conditions, while the rest were trained relentlessly to become a war machine. Regardless, no one was in a good state, whether physically or mentally.
These were people who had known only freedom back in Terran, and now they were chained to the point that they could no longer control their own bodies.
Most still had a fight in their souls, at first. They had, after all, survived for so long after doing so much. They had survived a zombie apocalypse, the migration, strong monsters, and even more evil monsters with human skin.
But when they became slaves, they realized how powerless they were. At least before, even if they were weak, they could at least control their own bodies.
Now... they would not be able to talk if one random citizen asked them to shut up.
Their will to fight wore down in time, and eventually shattered—the pieces disappearing bit by bit as the days passed.
It was heartbreaking to see.
Women had it the worst. Here, because of the focus on strength and less on knowledge, its passing, and the like, the women’s position here was extremely low.
One could imagine what they went through. Almost all of the women, except the ’unattractive’ ones, were not safe. One of the very few exemptions was Misha.
This was because of her natural slipperiness—something trained from young—paired with the ability she awakened not long after she activated her element.
So it was not a small surprise when she saw a Terran—a woman no less—selling Terran products!
Even if she was crossdressing, Misha could tell it was a woman. She was now stationed on the market with a big smile on her face, making money off of the natives.
This was a Terran, no doubt about it. Not just by the products she was selling, but also because of her accent, her gestures, and the like.
An aborigine woman wouldn’t be so comfortable making sales, and she also recognized some sales techniques used, too.
"Choose what you like, my Misha," Hesso said with a smile, and she returned with a beautiful smile before she kneeled down to study the items.
The closer she looked, the faster her heart beat. She was born into a rich family with good taste, so she knew a lot about products.
These were not made in Terran. Frankly, that made it even more remarkable!
If the item was not brought over from the previous world, then was it produced here?
Its quality was naturally not as streamlined as the ones created in Terran, where most goods were made in factories, but they worked well and looked good considering the resources.
Misha maintained a calm and gentle appearance, but inside she was shaken.
How? It’s been only a year!
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World