Let's start over, Your Majesty.

Chapter 251 District 8, The Fallen City
Rows of walls enclose the entire Eighth District, stretching as far as the eye can see. Between the Eighth District and Bagu City lies a vast open area stretching for tens of miles, making it appear like an isolated island in the sea, or a heavily guarded prison.

Approximately fifteen years ago, demi-human demonstrations erupted in various parts of Fein, triggered by the brutal beating to death of a young dog-human boy who was falsely accused of theft. This news sparked widespread riots by demi-humans across the country, creating a severe crisis.

As an immigrant community, the Eighth District has a population that is 80% subhuman. It was naturally the front line of this riot, with people rushing into the city to attack and injure people, smash shops, and even loot. Several government officials died as a result. From then on, the Eighth District was surrounded by a ten-meter-high wall and strictly sealed off. A movement restriction order was also issued to strictly control the movement of its residents.

Although the lockdown has been lifted and the walls are no longer in effect, a delicate relationship has been established between the Eighth District and Bagu City. Bagu City does not interfere with their underground kingdom, and the residents of the Eighth District do not leave the city at will.

They soon arrived at the wall, which was covered with graffiti and slogans.

Caesar also saw posters of several government spokespeople that Finn frequently appeared in the newspapers, but they had all been vandalized and graffitied into bizarre shapes.

“Sir, you’d better wear this; it will save me a lot of trouble.” Pida handed Caesar a black and yellow headscarf.

"What is this for?" Caesar asked.

“It’s a symbol of the camel caravan, indicating that you’re one of us, but don’t wear it to other neighborhoods. If they see you, they won’t let you off easily,” Pida said.

Caesar folded the headscarf and wore it around his neck as a scarf.

“Also, you’d better not stray too far from me. If anything happens, just say you’re Yandai and you’re here on business,” Pida said.

"And what is a tobacco pipe?"

"Well, people who come to District 8 for special purposes, like doing business, etc. Although that means they won't easily attack you, there are still some lunatics," Pida said.

"Anyway, as long as you listen to me and are careful in your actions and words, nothing will happen."

Caesar nodded.

He came here only to find that female writer, and this unexpected turn of events is indeed troublesome.

They entered the neighborhood, but the streets on both sides were not as simple and messy as they had imagined. On the contrary, they were quite well-maintained. Rows of two-story houses with yards were neatly arranged, the lawns were trimmed, the streets were clean, and although the building density was relatively high, they were still quite orderly. There were no dilapidated shantytown redevelopment buildings or low-rise buildings.

One by one, demi-humans with tails and thick hair walked down the street. Apart from their race, they looked no different from the people in the city. Caesar even saw a family of three bear-like people pushing a shopping cart full of goods across the street, their laughter echoing through the air.

For a moment, he seemed to realize that his impressions of this place were all pointless prejudices. In fact, this place was no different from the outside world; it was just the life of ordinary people.

But soon he realized he was wrong.

After passing through the clean row of houses, he saw a street lined with all sorts of messy junk and awnings, where homeless people lay like corpses, some sleeping, some staring blankly, their eyes vacant as cars drove by.

Even the poorest avenue in the capital, the South District, doesn't have as many homeless people as here, and they don't seem to be living in shacks built on the roadside.

The smell here is as disgusting and awful as a garbage dump.

"These people just live on the street like this?" Caesar said.

Pida quickly said, "Actually, these people can't be considered homeless. They all have jobs. If a gang is short of manpower, they will come here to find people so that they can have a full meal."

"These people can still participate in gang activities?" Caesar said.

Looking at these sickly, lifeless homeless people, I felt that even if I were to be dragged along to fill in, I would be laughed at. Even for odd jobs, there was no need for this group of people.

“Actually, we don’t necessarily need to find them when there’s a fight,” Pida chuckled. “Some jobs that require a lot of manpower are exactly where we need them.”

Caesar paused for a moment, then understood what Pida meant by consuming a large amount of manpower.

They continued on, crossing the block, where the number of homeless people decreased, but groups of gang members wearing the same patterned headscarves as him appeared on the street.

They patrolled the streets in twos and threes, warmed themselves around burning fires, or sprayed slogans on walls. Caesar could see that they all had weapons tucked into their belts.

Unlike the gangs in Durden City who wear coats and top hats and have their own business groups, these gangs here are more like thugs and hooligans. They are small and scattered, and openly engage in shady business.

Here, Caesar finally saw what the city truly looked like. Hanging from a street lamp was the naked, obese human male corpse, the word "mud-skin"—a derogatory term specifically for humans—written on his body in red paint.

The walls and ground are covered with all sorts of bizarre and terrifying graffiti, depicting various unspeakable acts of cruelty against humankind.

People were warming themselves around the fire buckets, but hairy limbs could be vaguely seen in some of the burning buckets.

With a roar, a pickup truck sped past, dragging two battered men behind it as they slammed against the ground with a dull thud.

On the other side, Caesar saw a group of people chasing a cat-man. They pounced on him, pinned him to the ground, and in a flash of blood, severed one of his arms.

Such bloody violence in the street seems to be a rare sight here, and passersby show no reaction.
Several women dressed in cotton-padded coats and heavy makeup stood by the roadside. When a man approached, they would open their coats and openly display their naked bodies. If they made eye contact, they would lead him directly into the apartment building behind them.

Then several more gunshots were heard. Two gang members encountered each other on the street and immediately drew their guns and fired at each other, creating a chaotic scene.

There were also groups of people who had taken hallucinogens, slumped over like zombies, their faces withered and their bodies emaciated, wandering aimlessly through the streets.

Only after seeing it all along can you truly appreciate that District 8 is a lawless place. There are no law enforcement officers or police here; what governs it is a spontaneously formed gang culture. The entire city is ruled by madness and depravity.

This was only during the day; at night, it became an even darker underground kingdom.

Extreme, violent, bizarre, and cruel are all synonymous with this city.

Fortunately, their journey was not hindered in any way, and they passed smoothly through several chaotic blocks. Caesar saw a faded street sign on the side of the road that read "Huangjiu Street".

Located in the middle of Huangjiu Street, Niujiao Street is also the intersection of several streets and the center of the entire Eighth District. Its unique geographical location has made it the ceasefire point for the major gangs, as Pida mentioned, where fighting is completely prohibited.

It finally quieted down here, as if we had entered a safe zone.

Pida parked the car in the parking lot, and Caesar followed him out of the car.

“My lord, as you have seen along the way, this place is chaotic. One wrong move and you could lose your life. Moreover, the people here are particularly hostile to humans like you. So you must stay close to me and not speak carelessly. If I fail to protect you, I will have no choice but to atone to Frederick with my death,” Pida said to Caesar with a serious expression.

“I know what I’m doing,” Caesar said.

"That's good. Come on, follow me."

Pida led him toward the tavern.

Before even entering, Caesar saw a mannequin hanging on the wall by the tavern entrance, covered in profanities, with a small crown on its head. It was obvious who the mannequin represented.

This is the typical treatment the esteemed King Otto VI received here.

Pushing open the door and stepping into the tavern, a pungent, fishy smell of alcohol hit me, making me wrinkle my nose involuntarily.

The tavern was in chaos, with groups of subhumans wearing various colored headscarves sitting together, drinking cheap alcohol and talking loudly.

The place is quite spacious, but it's already packed. People are standing at the bar to drink.

"Hey! Long legs! I heard you got a great job? And that woman Joanna even called you over?"

A burst of laughter came over, and a tall man with fur all over his body, tiger ears, walked over and greeted Pida with a smile.

"Haha, it's nothing much, just showing people the way," Pida said with a laugh.

But when the tiger's gaze fell upon Caesar behind him, his smile suddenly froze.

"Is this a mud clod?"

The soft sound seemed to trigger some kind of spell, and instantly, the eyes of most of the people in the tavern were focused on Caesar.

(End of this chapter)