The sandstorm rolls on, the Great Desert is wrapped in desolate smoke.
In a city that is still somewhat prosperous—the so-called prosperity is relative to the current apocalypse, when most places globally are in ruins—here, it has been challenging to establish a human base by relying on wisdom and strength.
However, with the apocalypse's sudden change, the so-called law and Order have long ceased to exist, and under such circumstances, a survivor base naturally divides into two classes.
Humans and scavengers.
The former possess notable power, or rely on the strong, enjoying ninety percent of the resources, while the latter are at the bottom of the city's hierarchy.
Besides scavenger they have other names, meat dogs, stinkbugs, any despicable term you can think of might be applied to them.
There is nothing more brutal than this world.
Those at the very bottom, the stinkbugs, offer no objections; for them, survival is already a luxury. As for other thoughts? They have none.
