Today looked like yet another normal morning on the crime-infested isle of Farasi. Below the great numbers of densely packed and short, reddish-orange buildings made of terracotta and bricks, zebras of all stripes went about their daily routines: trading with one another, going to work, the usual fare. And for the numerous members of the large criminal syndicates that roamed the streets alongside them, they busied themselves with trading in narcotics, fighting and mugging those from opposing factions, and other such pleasant activities. None bothered to hide their actions: in a place as thoroughly corrupt as this, there was simply no need.