"What's your name?" Leo asked.
"Marcus. Not the Marcus from City Hall who crunches numbers. I'm Marcus the ballplayer," the young man joked.
"Alright, Marcus the ballplayer."
Leo looked at the vibrant young man.
"How old are you? Sixteen?"
"Seventeen. I'll graduate high school in another year."
"What are your plans after graduation?"
This was a heavy question for a kid from a poor neighborhood.
In the past, the answer was often "I don't know," "work at a fast-food joint," or "join a gang."
But Marcus's answer was quick and without hesitation.
He raised his hand and pointed toward the southern part of the city.
That was the direction of the river valley and the Inland Port construction site. Giant gantry cranes were faintly visible in the distance.
"I want to go there."
Marcus's eyes were resolute.
"I want to operate one of those big cranes, the huge ones that can grab a container weighing dozens of tons like it's a toy."
Leo raised his eyebrows.
"Why?"
