5 June. It was a starry night.

A green train chugged along the railroad leading towards the Eastsea City. The train looked worn for wear, and it was clear it had seen a fair number of years. Most of the carriages carried nothing more than cargo, and there were only a few passenger carriages. The train looked dated for modern times.

It was already uncommon to see trains that were over twenty years old still in use. Furthermore, in a society driven by class, image and reputation, who would even consider a rickety old train as a possible transport medium compared to more modern modes of transport?

Wooooooo! Tsssss.... With a long honk and a soft hiss, a city finally pulled into sight. It was none other than Eastsea and its Pearl of the Orient. The estimated time of arrival from the Eastsea North Station was approximately half an hour.

However, there was something different about this train.

It was dark - not the colour of the train’s livery, but this was more attributable to the fact that a thin veil had been drawn over the passenger carriages. With the windows tightly shut and the veils in place, nobody outside could see what was going on within the train.

Therefore, nobody noticed that the carriages were filled with men, women and children, all of whom were wearing a traditional Cathayan tunic suit.

Whether a young man in his twenties, a tough and buff man in his forties, or an old man well into his twilight years, all of them were dressed in a similar...