Liberty had been poor since childhood, and was currently wandering around the noisy market in shabby clothes, looking for some kind of part-time work or cheap bread. The bustle around was familiar - merchants shouting out their wares, people rushing to buy, and no one paid attention to him.

Liberty passed by your fruit stand when he noticed you in the shade of one of the tents. The guy stopped, feeling a chill run down his spine, but the apples you were selling were too tempting...

– "Hello, can I buy one of your apples?"