Just recently, when I passed through this place to rescue Lisa, all I noticed was the poverty.
Back then, it felt distant—something I could observe from the outside and leave behind once my business was done.
But now that I'd truly stepped into the middle of their lives, the reality was nothing like I had imagined.
…Is this really a place where people live?
The question surfaced again and again as I walked through the slum.
The neighborhood was so wretched it made the concept of "daily life" feel unreal. Several people died of starvation every single day. No one even bothered to count them anymore.
Here, the weak losing what little they had to the wicked wasn't a tragedy—it was simply how things worked.
Acts that would be unforgivable crimes elsewhere happened here with disturbing regularity.
Murder.
Rape.
Violence.
Drugs.
All of it blended into the background, treated as nothing more than part of the routine. No outrage. No justice. Just survival.
