The morning mist drifted through Votradnoi's streets and alleys, carrying a rusty tang. Old Jack quietly opened his window, but before he could poke his head outside, a pungent smell of blood hit him in the face and sent him coughing. He instinctively took half a step back, yet could not help looking outside.
Bodies lay sprawled across the street. Some had already been turned over, evidently abandoned after players searched them for valuables. After a night of frost, the blood seeping from the corpses had frozen into dark red crystals on the paving stones, like venomous snakes winding all the way from the casinos in the east to the slums in the west.
Last night, Second Street in the West District had been a key route connecting the other districts, so more than one battle had erupted outside Old Jack's home. That was why the street outside had run red with blood.
Now, the "spoils" the players had left behind were laid bare in the morning light... A gang leader's headless corpse hung upside down from a streetlamp, a human trafficker's severed limbs were piled like rubbish beside a gutter, and several swindlers had been nailed to a noticeboard, with the contracts they had forged themselves pasted to their chests.
Old Jack stared, dumbfounded. He had known people had died outside, but he had never imagined there would be so many, or that their deaths would be so gruesome.
Just then, a sudden burst of urgent knocking came at the door. Old Jack whipped around, his heart giving a violent thump.
He steadied himself, but before he could answer, the knocking came again, accompanied by a gruff male voice.
"Is this the home of Second Street's Neighborhood Chief?"
Old Jack recognized the voice immediately. It was his direct superior,