It felt almost like entering the core of a first or second-tier city upon entering the Rich District.
It was as if returning to a world of civilization.
However, when you come to the Lower City District, it's like going to a slum in India, the stench of rot, and all sorts of things hitting you at once.
The iron sheet shanty structures are clinging to each other like a beehive.
Clothing woven from bulletproof fibers sways on the clothesline.
In the drainage ditch, a bloated corpse floats—it might be a junkie, or an innocent person robbed and stabbed to death.
Children chase each other in a mountain of tires, wielding crossbow arrows welded from steel pipes to shoot mutated rats. Among the garbage heaps gnawed by the rats lay a semi-buried corpse, with only bones and some metallic prosthetics remaining.
