Word on the street... The city’s underbelly churned with old grudges and fresh blood yesterday. Near the cemetery, a desperate skirmish erupted, leaving an officer wounded and a notorious gang enforcer cuffed, though his cohorts slipped through the shadows—armed and hunted. Elsewhere, a brutal betrayal unfolded by the coast road, where a heated confrontation ended with a sharp blade and a fall into thorny brush, stirring whispers of a vendetta that’s far from settled. And amid the smoky haze of the Vudu Spice Shop, uneasy truces were whispered—half promises, half threats—while a nameless victim dangled between life and death, a stark reminder: in Hathian, trust is the rarest currency of all.
