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But what could he do? Since sunrise, he had been at his stall, earning only a few measly copper coins. He couldnt bear to spend them on food.
He sat on the ground, hugging his knees, feeling utterly helpless. In front of him, a worn cloth on the ground served as his stall, with a few bags of white stuff on it.
It was salt the very thing Kevin was selling.
His village had always relied on salt production for livelihood. Merchants used to come monthly to buy their ...
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