The solar system is broken

Bustling streets and dim sun.

A young man was wearing a black windbreaker, with a little Lolita dressed as a maid on his arm.

The setting sun shone on the young man's face, coating it with a layer of gold, and his brows were sharp.

In his hand was a ceramic bottle with the words "sweet potato roast" written diagonally in a brush.

Loli tilted her head and leaned against the young man's hand, with a satisfied look on her face.

Dududu~

The green train slowly entered the station, the steam engine was emitting white smoke, and the wheels slowly rolled down.

Crunch~

There was a steady sound and it stopped on the platform.

The only man and woman in the whole station, the uncle, the train driver, stuck his head out of the boiler room.

This is an old man with a long beard, his work clothes are dirty, and his beard has burn marks.

The leather apron was greasy, and a pair of rough hands wiped it, then grabbed the handle of the front of the car and jumped off happily.

When he smiled, the two missing teeth were a regretful opening, but they conveyed happiness.

"Davari~"

The old man smiled heartily and climbed onto the platform.

The writer gently stretched out his hand, but he turned it away.

He wiped it with his sleeves again, and then stretched out his rough hands, "See you in a day~"

"Not for a day, Sky~" The writer always calls the bear the driver.

"Oh~ Davari, this wine is really missed."

"Really~" The writer handed the sweet potato roast in his hand to the old man.

The old man opened the mud seal and took a deep breath. His face turned red as fast as he could see.

The wine is very strong and the people are even more ferocious.

The train stopped, and people on the platform hurriedly moved some packed things to the carriage that opened sideways.

This train is a dedicated line of the research institute and also takes care of the transportation of goods in industrial areas.

The train leaves from the industrial area and brings soap, clothes and tobacco to the urban area of ​​Youzhou, and then transports food, raw materials, and experimental equipment from the urban area to the research institute.

The train coming out of the institute goes around the industrial area in a circle, and the entire loop is a single line.

"Davari~ It's a pity that you don't know how to drink," the old man patted the writer's shoulder and covered it with mud.

He still has to drive, he can't drink alcohol, he can only simply satisfy his cravings.

"Just like this world, there are many different things."

The writer looked at the old man with a smile.

"For example, Davari likes to bring me wine~"

The setting sun is dissipating little by little, the white fish belly of the distant mountains is getting darker little by little, and the days after autumn will gradually become shorter.

The dark windbreaker looked so silent under the setting sun.

"Did anything good happen today?"

"On the contrary Davari, something bad happened!" The smile on the train driver's face faded.

His thick lips were chapped inch by inch. The bright red blood was very bright in the dim light.

"Tell me about it, man."

"Guangrao is gone!" The old man's eyes were full of loneliness.

"I'm sorry, Old Ivan." The writer patted the old man's shoulder heavily, "I'm sorry."

"Davari, it must be difficult for you to understand my feelings," the old man opened the mud seal and took a deep mouthful of sweet potato roast.

"Sorry, I can't share it with you."

Guangrao is the spiritual leader of the red-blooded people and the savior of all red-blooded people.

The previous base was hostile to red-blooded people. Blue-blooded people were treated unfairly across the continent and hid all the way to the far north.

At that time, the base almost implemented a war strategy, but fortunately this old wise man dissuaded the first group of radical blue-bloods.

The reason why the red-blooded people can join the paradise land of Youzhou is largely due to this old man.

"I heard that you blue-blooded people like philosophy very much," Old Ivan sighed. He gently raised his hand and pressed it on the seal of the sweet potato. The clay seal had been damaged by him.

"Well, philosophy makes people smart."

"Did you say you should get along well with others?" Old Ivan looked at the writer seriously.

The writer was stunned and didn't know what to say.

But looking at old Ivan's seriousness...

"Probably."

Confucius once said that humility, respect, kindness, humility, and harmony between people are all differences.

Old Ivan breathed a sigh of relief, as if grasping a straw, "Then the saint must have said that blue and red blood are the same."

"What are you worried about?" The writer realized something was wrong.

"I saw a terrible weapon in the industrial area."

"It can smash an iron pot hundreds of meters away!"

A hundred meters away, it should be a throwing weapon. In the industrial era, naturally it cannot be a bow, arrow, or crossbow.

gun!

Think of today's Youzhou Express, the molding of special steel, the research and development of laser technology, and the strong condemnation of the Shang Empire...

Coupled with Guangrao's death, everything seems to be such a coincidence.

"Weapons require souls. Weapons without souls are not powerful." The writer shook his head. Having weapons does not mean victory.

When cavalry fights tanks, they still have a chance of winning. Military affairs are an adventure.

War is a lose-lose situation with no winner.

"Mr. Writer," Old Ivan let out a long sigh, "There is going to be a war."

"war?"

"Yes, a slaughter of red blood."

When he left, his body was weak and he looked so frail.

I climbed down the platform with difficulty, staggered across the railway, wrapped in a cotton coat...

"Hey~" The writer felt a chill in his heart, but fortunately I reacted quickly.

"Master is getting in the car," Xiao Li picked up the black bag and the carriage door was already open.

The writer glanced at the coachman, turned around, stepped on the pedal, and got on the train.

The carriage was made of wood and the windows had no glass, so it was very cold.

There is only a long stool with a backrest board on a simple bracket, which is very simple.

There are no lights because this car does not drive at night.

The train was going to District 8, and there were very few people. At this point, there was no one in the carriage, and it was still sleepy.

Xiao Li excitedly sat by the window. She liked to look at things in the distance and back away little by little.

The writer's mind was disturbed by old Ivan, and he looked at the scenery outside the window unintentionally.

The tall straw piles, the playing children, the farmers standing up to wipe their sweat... everything is as beautiful as reality.

This city is not as nice as expected, and it is also very hierarchical.

A simple example is the electoral system.

All blue-blooded people and some red-blooded people working in cutting-edge fields do not need to be elected and have the right to directly participate in the National Assembly and are called Thousand-Left Members.

For the red-blooded people, a representative system is implemented, and differential elections are adopted, divided into 18 districts, each district has only 50 seats, that is, there are only nearly 1,000 seats for 200,000 people. This is the so-called right house.

Among all red-blooded people, not all red-blooded people can participate in the representative system. Only settled residents have the right. This is equivalent to depriving 30% of the floating population of the right to participate in elections in disguise.

The political system of Youzhou is very similar to the politics of the city-state of Athens.

Don't think that if the red-blooded people unite, they will have the opportunity to veto decisions that are not beneficial to them, because the people who built the political framework wrote reservations in the constitution.

As long as an issue is rejected by the left house, it is impossible to pass it.

But if the right house vetoes it, the left house can force it to pass with 2/3 of its seats.

The so-called equal rights of passes are simply a joke in the face of reservation regulations.

This system reflects the city from the side. Most of the resources are in the hands of players, not NPCs with independent consciousness.

Different from a normal country, this city-state is a political ecology dominated by technological capital.

If the blue-blooded people turn to the almanac and reveal the grievances they have suffered, they can definitely mobilize most of the people in the Left House, and then war is not an impossible outcome.

Guangrao's death means that the NPCs will lose their biggest caller for the Left House.

As for the reason why NPCs hate war, it is also very simple. They don't want to become soldiers.

In a slave-owning society, all soldiers came from forced conscription.

Youzhou implements representation, but does not have a professional army. Most of the soldiers can only come from NPCs.

Black shadows kept flying over the writer's face as he pondered quietly.

All of this is so unreasonable, yet so reasonable and impeccable.

"Gu~"

The train whistle sounded, and the distant mountains let out a wail.

The dark mountains quietly looked at the heavy-bearers, suffering the torture without saying a word. This was the silent strong man.

help?

The writer shook his head, impossible.

War is so emotional.