On the dark nights of Aradric District, Alistair trotted through a silent block. His eyes surveyed the routes and pathways, looking for certain people—dangerous people.
Alistair soon walked past Keplar borders, and he witnessed the welcoming, worn-out signboard:
"Roscow, the zone of drugs, prostitution, and organ trafficking on peculiar days—when you can't pay for those services, you will be the service. Tread wisely!"
Upon reading those sincere words, Alistair adored this place already. So much so, he wanted to burn every house to its foundations—for kindness, of course.
Because this was the clear theme in this God-forsaken region. Mortals shall relish in perpetual corruption and forbidden pleasure until their bodies deteriorate, their minds break, their blood clots, and all that's left is a shell.
