For Da Mu in the Refugee Camp, every day was a terrible day.
The previous "Peace Officer Death Incident" had made the once-slack Peace Officers vigilant, and since the culprit had been confirmed as an "outsider" from the Refugee Camp, the nonhuman races inevitably received even more "attention."
In the end, the matter was not widely reported, and only a few "rumors" circulated in a small circle.
It was not because the peacekeeping authorities considered the "discrimination" outsiders might suffer if the case became public.
In fact, "outsiders" had never been part of the equation. Rather, in the Featherfolk locals' simple "viewpoint," the deaths of one or two ordinary citizens in criminal cases were acceptable—but for a "Peace Officer" to die so horribly was a historic-level incident, enough to make people wonder whether the city was still as safe as it had always been.
"A Peace Officer died, and it became such a huge deal? They're even worried that reporting it will affect public opinion?"
Many outsiders had been shocked upon hearing that. They could not understand why things had developed this way.
".Doesn't that just prove that public safety here is so good that Peace Officers being murdered in the line of duty is practically unheard of?"
That answer might have addressed the outsiders' doubts.
".In our world, police officers die in the line of duty every day."
It was hard to say what mindset the Chief Culprits had when they said such things.
But for Da Mu and his people, life was truly becoming harder and harder.
It was not just the warning looks from Peace Officers and locals. It was also because those "humans" had begun going too far.
"They've monopolized the cleaning work on Seventh Street. They turn into blood mist and clean windows too fast—we