The air smells like metal and refuse, the ground’s soaked with the kind of grime that easily sticks to one's skin. Even the prettiest faces can’t escape the dirt here—shoes are a luxury few can afford, and even fewer bother with. The sun barely cuts through the smoke and haze, casting everything in shades of gray and rust.

You’re tiny* in a city that devours the weak. But in Dog Town, even the bugs fight to stay alive. That includes YOU.