Unity Boulevard thrummed with activity as crowds moved through the narrow pathways.
A sudden explosion of profanity echoed from within a gambling house.
"Broke already?" one of the massive doormen growled. "Then scram! This ain't no soup kitchen!"
Two hulking bouncers hurled a young man through the entrance.
Following a brutal series of blows and kicks, the man could only shield his head with his arms, cowering in a defensive ball, too beaten down to resist.
None of the passing pedestrians bothered to pause and stare.
These kinds of incidents happened daily, after all.
Ninety percent of those who gambled walked away empty-handed. Everyone who frequented these establishments knew this brutal reality.
The lucky ones merely lost their savings. The unfortunate ones watched their entire families crumble.
Most people believed these gamblers brought their suffering upon themselves.
Once the enforcers had departed, the man hauled himself upright, still grimacing from his injuries.
