Bab 142: Fix my mother back!!

In the dilapidated area, a mosaic of despair unfolded as multiple kids lingered by decaying buildings and damp grounds. Their hands, held out in a silent plea, bespoke the hardship etched into every crevice of this forgotten corner. The surroundings mirrored the melancholy that clung to the atmosphere, a testament to the darker underbelly of the city, notorious for its soaring crime rates and the plight of internally displaced people.

Amid the crumbling structures, makeshift tents perched precariously by the roadside, providing scant shelter to those who called this desolation home. Unbarricaded windows of taller buildings loomed above, each pane framing a voyeuristic glimpse into the struggles below. The buildings themselves, a patchwork of broken windows and sagging structures, stood like silent witnesses to the decay that defined the area.