Thanks to its stable climate and fertile soil, the Hatak Imperial Nation was fairly prosperous. But compared with the "public security" of most imperial capitals on the Faerun plane, this rare empire that prohibited the existence and spread of all religions was truly terrible.
Of course, it had guards, and nominal law enforcers did indeed exist. However, amid an atmosphere of peaceful decay, these so-called "Hatak soldiers" were more aptly called **. Their most diligent daily work was searching everywhere for easily bullied merchants and commoners from whom to collect "protection fees." As for girls being assaulted in alleyways? Even if those "masters of the guard" saw it, they would only grin lewdly and demand to join in.
So even as she was surrounded by a group of red-eyed, half-crazed hooligans who pawed at her from all sides, the softly sobbing girl did not dare cry out loudly for help. For a little girl from the slums, drawing the guards' attention often only led to even more horrifying consequences.
After all, if the ** had not "had enough fun," they might even find some excuse to throw an innocent girl into prison.
But without calling for help, could obediently showing submission make the disaster pass more quickly?
The little girl, whose clothes were being torn apart piece by piece, did not think it would be so easy. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she had already seen one of the leading hooligans take out a murky bottle of potion, preparing to force it into her mouth...
"N-No... don't, don't make me drink that. Someone save me, someone... someone save me..."
Calling for help in the lowest sobbing voice she could manage, the girl's plea was really more of a desperate supplication. As less and less clothing remained on her body, that grief-stricken