Gunther lived in Broomnott for twenty-seven years, but he only got the nickname of "button" except for hundreds of identical buttons for belts and shirts produced by a certain astrologer's family business.

Of course, this is already lucky enough to many ordinary people who immigrated to the floating island and returned to the land in poverty because they could not find a job. No matter what, no one thinks that Gunther is in the same place as those homeless men. But that is not the case. Gunther remembers his hometown, a small country in southern Pinia, which had long disappeared from the map, and so was his hometown. Fortunately, Gunther would not feel heartbroken about it, and his only impression of it was hunger, deadly hunger.

A purple leaf fell from the fir tree and hit his forehead.

Gunther raised his head and found nothing unusual, so he threw the stinky leaves that slapped him aside. The leaves floated to the ground, and he kicked them with his feet, but his toes hit the base of the glass wall. This thing was made of stone, and he immediately uttered a roar.

"Gunther" the vibration of the glass attracted Qiongli's roar, "Don't compete with the leaves when you go to work"

Before Gunther could speak, his stomach suddenly rang and answered for him. Jonley glanced at the clock and threw him a box of pies. "It's not lunch time yet." He warned, "You don't have any rest from noon to afternoon."

"Thank you." He was not unable to hear Jonley's kindness, so he quickly lowered his head and bit the dough covered with cinnamon and raisins. If Gunther's greatest luck was finding a job in the factory, then meeting Jonley would undoubtedly be the goddess of luck who came to him. Jonley Temple has a quarter of aristocratic blood, but unfortunately his grandmother's family was only a lord. This was enough to find a balanced position in Bloomnott, but Jonley was always short of money.

Gunther knew where he used his money, even though he had never asked. Tobacco, alcohol, fish and meat, Qiongli would scold them while slamming these rare luxury goods on the foreheads of his workers. Each person had a dozen of his own, but without Qiongli, they would not even get a dozen. Gunther suspected that he would not have stayed without Qiongli Temple's help. He swallowed another mouthful of hot pie and sucked the oil star on his fingers.

The aristocratic class of Broomnot is still using the old system of the city-state kingdom, the upper class is the manager, the civilian is the manager, and the slave is the slave. Gunther is sure that he is not a slave, and will never be. While licking his last finger, he looked at the street outside the glass, and a man with a gloomy face sat in the restaurant. Maybe he would become a slave to a certain nobleman, who had seen him at the door of Jonley's house. "Mr. Temple." Gunther grabbed him as the supervisor walked past, "That's your friend, he is waiting for you."

Jonley looked back and took off his gloves and mask immediately. "If this idiot comes to borrow money from me again," the civilian of aristocratic blood whispered, "then he will not be there soon." He walked out of the workshop.

Gunther didn't care whether the other party could continue to get help from Joanley. In fact, he was happy to see the man being excluded from the foreman's friendship. The "button" tried to focus his eyes on the creaking mold in front of him to cover up his true attention direction.
Chapter completed!