Figures like Old John are not uncommon throughout the empire.
Among them, there are some tall figures.
In the west of the Holy Mania Empire, within a large city with a population of over two hundred thousand.
At the northern end of the city, in a rundown and dirty urban district.
The low buildings exude a sense of age, unauthorized structures are everywhere, the pothole-ridden roads are long neglected, filled with filthy puddles, and the discarded household garbage in the corners is almost piled into mounds.
Flies buzz and dance in the air, which is tainted with a sour and rotten stench, yet the residents living here are long accustomed to it.
They are dressed in rags, malnourished and emaciated... either curled up in the corners or sitting inside the half-opened buildings, their hands busy with simple tasks, like weaving grass crafts.
This is a world seemingly forgotten.
Only the occasional sound of laughter, like silver bells, brings a touch of color to this world.
