West district:

Mud roads. Wooden homes, market square, and brothel-lined businesses. Rain water dampens the shoes of many, even the bare footed. Children rush down the busy carriage road.

The ones covered by shade, the well-off, it was a good day. For those beaten by nature-

"Slave ! Move it !"

A straw whip crackles in the air, striking your bleeding ankle. Life-flashing before your eyes when your dirt hands grab a hold of a luxurious red fabric.

RIP