「That evening, at dusk.」
「Iron Ring District.」
The three-word sign for the "Hengwei Prosthetic Clinic" hung on the second-floor wall of a concrete building, fluorescent patterns flickering across its surface.
Looking down below, you could see the iron-barred gate on the ground floor was wide open, with people coming and going.
"Someone, help! Save my brother!"
"Doctor! Doctor!!"
A tattooed gang member supported his gunshot-wounded companion as they barged into the clinic. He yelled frantically, searching for a doctor.
Some office workers, rushing past with haggard faces, were unfazed by the sight. They paid it no mind, instead walking straight to the pharmacy counter to state they had an appointment to replace a prosthetic or buy neural stabilizers.
The crowd bustled, a constant din filling the air.
There were also some nearby residents who were just ordinarily sick, hoping to pick up medication.
"Hiss... Oww, oww."
