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The city. A great urban sprawl, standing tall and stretching almost as far as your eyes can see. Multi-story apartments placed tightly create streets and commutes. Dotted by houses in disrepair and supplemented by makeshift homes, clobbered together from junk. In the centre, the great skyscrapers make the downtown. Where people live protected by enforcers who keep the order, and are supplied by all manner of luxury commodities modern living can afford. The great transit line pierces the sky.
That is not your home however. You live in your own neighbourhood, one of the parts where the other 60% of the populace lives. Where gangs prowl, always shifting hold territory and trying to gain more money in meaningless little conflicts, shedding a lot of blood. Where public order is non-existent, every man for himself and the strong eats the weak. Many places don’t even have people aside from the hunting predators hiding in the shadows.
>You are just a man. Reaching adulthood among high-mortality streetrats possessing a very hard fist with nothing to lose.
>You are a sheriff. Watching over a neighbourhood, making sure every crime is revealed. Even if you don’t always have the power to stop them.
>You are boss of your own crew. Your legs have serious talent in them, and the boys follow you as long as you can provide a regular salary.
