Capítulo 3: Chapter 3 Julian's First Steps
Terneil City lay in the southwestern region of the empire, a far cry from the vibrant and bustling southeastern coastal towns. Though not as grand, to those who lived there, Terneil was a paradise compared to the backbreaking life in the countryside.
Julian strolled through the busy streets, taking in the sights with curiosity. Even though he had seen far more advanced cities in his dreams, this was different, this was real. Adjusting his patched backpack, excitement bubbled within him as he pondered what his next move should be.
First, he needed to learn how to read and write. The street signs made no sense to him, and without literacy, his future would be severely limited. The next priority was finding a job. He didn't care about the pay or even if he got paid at all. As long as he had a roof over his head and two meals a day, he could get by.
As he wandered the unfamiliar streets, a hint of fear crept in, but it was quickly overshadowed by his hope for the future. Everything seemed better in the city the sky looked bluer, and even the air felt fresher than in the countryside.
"Hey… you there, kid!"
Julian turned toward the voice. A man in a bowler hat stood next to a car, motioning for him to come over. The car was unlike any Julian had seen before sleek, shiny, and one of the newest models around.
"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" Julian responded eagerly. He wasn't sure why this well dressed man had called him over, but in the excitement of the city, he was open to any new experience.
The man gave him a quick look before pointing to several crates behind the car. "Help me carry these to Room 411, fourth floor."
Julian hesitated for just a moment before smiling. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped toward the crates. They were heavy, sloshing with liquid, but he had lifted heavier back on the farm. With a nod, the man pointed to a nearby building, signaling for Julian to hurry.
Julian, slightly out of breath but determined, climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Though the crates were burdensome, his experience with farm labor gave him the strength to handle them without much difficulty.
At the fourth floor, he found Room 411 using the numbers he had learned from coins. He knocked lightly on the door with his foot. After a moment, a man with a grim face cracked the door open and peered out with cold, watchful eyes.
"I'm here with the crates from the gentleman downstairs," Julian said, adjusting his grip.
The man glanced down the hall suspiciously before widening the door slightly. Julian noticed his right hand hidden behind his back, but he paid it no mind. The man eyed the crates with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Strong kid. Put them by the door."
Julian placed the crates where instructed, and without another word, the man shoved him out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before shrugging and heading back downstairs.
The gentleman with the bowler hat was still there, waiting by his car. Without a word, he handed Julian a one dollar bill, then climbed into the car and drove away without so much as a glance back.
Julian stared at the bill in his hand, whistling in disbelief. The city seemed like a place where making money wasn't as hard as he had imagined. In less than an hour, he had earned what would have taken days back home.
There's always a sense of pride that comes with earning your first dollar, no matter how small the task. Feeling a surge of confidence, Julian started thinking about what he should do next. He was hopeful about finding a leather shop. A man who once visited Wild Clover Town for wolf pelts had said that a leather worker would never go hungry.
The town folks used to trap coyotes, a nuisance to the local farmers, and sell their skins for a mere ten cents. The leather merchant claimed that after being treated and crafted, those pelts could sell for several dollars. It was this promise of transformation and value that drove Julian's ambition to find a job in leather working.
He wandered the city for hours, marveling at its vastness. The streets were teeming with life, and the endless rows of buildings and cars were a far cry from his quiet hometown.
But luck didn't seem to favor him after that first encounter. He found no leather shops, and no one approached him for work.
Thirsty and hungry, Julian took a drink from a street pump and gnawed on a piece of dry, hard bread he had packed from home. He'd completed his first day in the city and found shelter for the night under a bridge, experiencing loneliness for the first time in his life. The wind howled as he curled up to sleep, the city's unfamiliar sounds his only company.
For the next few days, Julian explored Terneil City, searching for opportunities. Eventually, he found three leather shops, but none of the owners needed help. He tried his luck in other trades carpentry, tailoring but no one would take him in. The reality of city life began to sink in: dreams were often far from reality.
Two weeks after arriving in Terneil, Julian finally stumbled upon a way to make some money washing cars.
All he needed was a bucket, some soap, a sponge, and a towel. With these cheap supplies, he could offer to clean cars parked along the street. It didn't cost much to start, and each car wash earned him five to ten cents. If he managed to wash ten or twenty cars a day, he would be doing well for himself. His mind raced with ideas, drawing on the ambition and vision he had gained from his strange dreams. This could be the beginning of something bigger, he thought.
On the sixteenth evening, Julian headed to a prime spot near the Terneil Grand Theater. He had noticed that wealthy people frequently parked there before attending performances. It seemed like the best place to make some extra cash.
As the evening darkened, the city came alive. Terneil City, already so overwhelming to Julian, buzzed with energy as its residents went about their nightly activities.
The honk of a car horn interrupted Julian's thoughts. He turned to see a sleek, new model pull up nearby. A stern looking man in a trench coat stepped out, glanced briefly at Julian, and patted the car. Without saying a word, he tossed two five-cent coins on the ground and walked into the theater.
"What arrogance," Julian muttered to himself as he picked up his bucket. "If I ever become rich, I won't be like him."
Julian shook his head, resolved that if he ever rose to wealth, he would never forget to treat other people with respect.
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