Outside World

The neatly aligned, slightly tilted roofs of houses blurred past as Aay jogged down the hill.

Though Rubb City was a dumpsite in its stark austerity, the community—under the governance of the 12 Leaders—was surprisingly well-organized when it came to street regulations.

Residents could do as they pleased in the dumpsite or within their homes, but on the streets, the rules of the 12 Leaders were law.

"Please... spare some coins..."

However, despite the efforts to maintain order, the harsh realities of life in this city were impossible to ignore.

Thin, frail hands stretched toward passersby as vulnerable figures sat under the scorching sun, lining the roadside.

Aay caught a glimpse of an elderly woman begging for coins, a malnourished child huddled beside her. The child's age was difficult to discern due to their emaciated frame.

This was the grim norm in Rubb City—where the elderly and the young were reduced to begging, too weak or unsuited to scavenge through the toxic smog of the dumpsite.

Truthfully, begging might have been bearable, but it was likely these individuals were exploited by syndicate gangs, forced to beg for meager rations.

Wolfgang bastards!

If Aay could spit without drawing the attention of the watchful gang members patrolling the streets, he would have done so to express his disdain for their exploitation of their own people.

We sort every piece of garbage by helping each other.

A popular saying in Rubb City, but it seemed to apply only to the gangs and their members, not the vulnerable.

Soon enough, Aay arrived at a staircase leading to a secluded part of Rubb City.

He descended the steep steps and emerged into a dimly lit clearing, where gang members from various factions eyed each other warily. Among them was the Tata Gang.

"Brother Waylo!"

Aay approached a man with a stoic expression, which quickly softened into a genuine smile upon seeing him.

Waylo stood. "Ready to go?"

"Mmm!" Aay nodded.

Waylo gestured for him to follow into the Underground.

"Elder, please."

Before them stood a massive pipe, half-buried in the ground—a passage that would lead anyone wishing to leave Rubb City through the endless garbage without repercussions.

A hooded man and woman, both wearing breathing masks, guarded the entrance alongside a hunched old woman.

"Ticket?"

The old woman asked.

Waylo handed her a blank piece of paper.

She examined it briefly before nodding and stepping aside.

"May the lessons of Rubb City guide you in the outside world, young man," the old woman said, her voice carrying a weight of wisdom.

Strange... Elders usually don't speak. Unless it's a tradition, Aay thought.

"Thank you, Elder," Waylo said before turning to Aay. "Be careful out there, alright?"

"...I will."

Aay's reply was delayed, as if he were contemplating something.

With the old woman's approval, he entered the massive pipe and disappeared into the darkness.

"Elder, please."

As soon as Aay vanished, a group of men approached the Underground, requesting entry. The leader of the group held a blank piece of paper.

Waylo's calm gaze scrutinized the leader, but he made no protest and returned to his spot.

After examining the paper, the Elder allowed one person to pass without a word.

A young man with a robust build hurriedly entered the pipe, as if chasing something.

However, not even a ten seconds later, a loud scream echoed through the pipe, followed by the grinding sound of something being dragged.

To the shock of everyone present, Aay, who was supposed to be long gone, emerged from the pipe, dragging the body of the recent entrant.

With both hands, he tossed the body back to its group, landing at the feet of their leader.

The leader's jaw tightened, his disbelief turning to fury.

This disrespect would not go unpunished!

"Take one step, and consider yourself gone."

A low, menacing voice cut through the tension, halting the leader in his tracks.

A foreboding sense of death loomed, as if the grim reaper's scythe hovered over his neck.

"I won't, Elder. Please, forgive me," the leader said, acknowledging the Elder's warning.

"However," the leader turned his gaze back to Aay, who stood defiantly just a step away, "bad move, kid. You should've done your dirty work outside. Now pray I die before you ever return."

"...ha...haha!"

Instead of cowering, Aay let out a quiet chuckle.

"Too bad for you. Because I'm not coming back!"

Aay met the leader's cold, murderous gaze without flinching.

Having delivered his message, he turned to the masked woman and nodded. She nodded back, her eyes conveying a silent promise: Two years from now!

Aay turned and re-entered the Underground, disappearing into the darkness.

"Ha!" The leader let out a short, bitter laugh. "Still a child, I see! Mark my words, you'll be back—whether you like it or not!"

But Aay made no reply, his footsteps echoing as he walked away.

The leader and his men returned to their spots, while Waylo remained unmoved beside them.

"It won't make a difference even if he passes the Pro Exam," the leader spat. "We have five pros on our side, and your group only has one—even if Qin obscured his results ten years ago, it's all pointless if the contractors deem your group worthless!"

But Waylo remained silent, his gaze fixed on the Underground.

"Tsk!" The leader spat in frustration and sat back down.

Waylo glanced at the annoyed leader before turning his attention back to the Underground.

You're wrong. We don't want Aay to become a pro and return here. He's not suited for this environment; it's better if he stays far away, severed from this place entirely. Waylo thought.

Yet, the unbroken determination in his eyes betrayed his true feelings—a silent hope that Aay would return one day, triumphant and eager, after passing the exam.

—

It didn't take long for Aay to reach the end of the tunnel.

The vast, scorching desert stretched before him, dotted with sparse rock formations in the distance—the only signs of life beyond Rubb City's garbage barrier.

Aay broke into a sprint, his excitement palpable as he eagerly anticipated experiencing the outside world.

—

"Boss, one Rubbage is escaping. What should we do?"

In one of the distant rock formations, a group of soldiers in desert military uniforms observed Aay through their binoculars.

"Let him go. He used the Underground, so he's out of our jurisdiction. Just monitor for any more rats."

Among the group, a man in a dark suit, dark shoes, and slit eyeglasses—clearly of higher rank—responded to the soldier.

"What about these guys, sir?"

Another soldier asked, gesturing to a group of kneeling men.

The gentleman glanced at them. "Do as you always do," he replied indifferently.

"Aye, sir!"

The soldier acknowledged the order and exchanged a nod with his comrades.

The other soldiers cocked their guns and aimed at the kneeling men.

The cold barrels pressed against their heads—the men could feel death looming.

With a loud bang, brains and blood splattered onto the rocky ground, seeping into the crevices.

One thought lingered in the men's final moments: I wish I'd never been born into this place. Even escape is impossible; only death can free us.

The world's cruelty is reserved for the few.

While one chases their dreams, the rest are left to rot and die.

…Such is the world.