The hustle and bustle of the district remained wrapped in the cacophony of merchants and businesspeople pleading desperately with two thuggish figures. These men, in their late twenties, had been marked by the hard life of rough, scarred skin, telling tales of a life steeped in violence. They stood brazenly in front of a metal scrap shop, their posture exuding an air of authority born from fear.
One of the thugs-an incredibly tall fellow with a sneer on his face, unslung the axe that had been riding his back. The blade gleamed with cruel brightness under the sun as he set its head firmly against the solid ground, laying his right hand on top of the handle. Then he pulled out an older man-they must have been the shop owner-with a cruel grin and paying no heed to the wailing of the man's wife.
"Please, just one more week! We'll pay, I promise!" the woman pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of desperation.
