Early the next morning, Western Suburb garbage dump.
The dump was piled with mountains of garbage, emitting a foul stench. A few stray dogs were searching for food while a dozen or so street children were rummaging for things they could exchange for money, seemingly unaffected by the stench. Outside a simple clay-brick house stood three cars, looking out of place amidst the surrounding trash, but there wasn't a single person to be seen. The group of kids curiously gathered around to check it out.
Just then, a big man stormed out of the clay-brick house. He was wearing camo gear and combat boots, tall and strong as an ox, with a bald head and a face full of threatening features. His triangular eyes radiated an intimidating light. These street kids weren't very afraid but still stopped in their tracks. One older kid shouted, "This is our turf, who are you?"
