They are experiencing chronic death.
These people have been thoroughly dosticated, even if they live lives worse than pigs and dogs, they lack the courage to resist, as laziness makes them complacent, right until death arrives.
The Ring City does not lack labor.
There are simply too many people here doing bottom-tier jobs.
A middle-aged man with a rchant’s deanor halted his pack animal and then turned around, picking out so of the stronger laborers from the corner of the street as if selecting livestock. Only at this mont would those numb and indolent n voluntarily stand up.
"You, you, and you." The rchant selected three laborers who looked sowhat stronger.
The other laborers had no intention of competing upon seeing this. After the selection was done, they squatted back against the wall with vacant looks in their eyes, staring aimlessly at everything before them. So among them, unable to even find work for long periods, were getting so emaciated that, in other places, they would have probably resorted to theft or so other act abandoning all morality, but they didn’t. They lazily awaited starvation. In fact, they wouldn’t starve, because when they beco distorted enough, they start eating other things.
Boxes of heavy goods bent the backs of these laborers as they bowed their heads, carrying them to the warehouse district. This street was full of such people, more beast than the beasts, after all, the pack animals were the rchant’s own wealth and needed proper care.
Bang.
A laborer, seemingly in a daze, suddenly slipped, and the goods on his shoulders fell, so expensive items spilling out of the scattered boxes all over the ground.
"Fool!"
"What did you do?" The enraged rchant raised his whip and struck.
A lash mark appeared.
The rchant, seemingly unsatisfied after several lashes, kicked the other’s face, imdiately causing a gush of blood.
Furiously, he said, "You’re fired!"
"Get out of here!"
Damned wretched creature.
The rchant raised his whip to strike again, but this ti, the laborer in front of him reached out, catching the whip. The rchant, seeing a pair of gleaming green eyes in the defiant countenance, trembled with a sudden recollection of recent rumors.
It is said that so people have gone missing in the Lower City District recently. It is said, guards patrolling at night saw people catching rats and maggots from the sewers to eat. It is said, so bodies recently buried in the Great Tomb went missing, and so on.
The wretched of Ring City always seed docile, even if starving, scavenging the remains of rats at night, foraging for food in garbage piles, or eating maggots from the sewers. They dared not retaliate.
But this ti, in the eyes of this laborer, he saw a frightful gaze that could devour n!
Bang.
This laborer snatched the whip and struck back at the rchant who had oppressed them for so long. A lash mark appeared on that pig-like fat face, and with the sll of blood, the green glimr in the laborer’s eyes grew more pronounced, even as his Adam’s apple bobbed with hunger.
"What are you going to do?!" The fat rchant wet himself in an instant, feeling that the other side indeed ant to devour him.
The numb expression gradually dissipated.
The dark-skinned laborer looked at the terror-stricken rchant in front of him, as if discovering the New World, and with a reverse swing lashed out again, a shrill wail unfolded, reminding the fat rchant of sothing. He bellowed, "Guards! Guards! Call the guards!..."
Several figures rushed over.
The laborer with the hunched figure suddenly burst into wild laughter, pouncing fiercely, and gnawed at the fat rchant’s face. In the fountain of blood, he bit off the face without chewing and swallowed it, then bit the rchant’s neck, sucking the fresh blood. After a few struggles, the fat rchant laid motionless on the ground.
A pool of blood spread along the street.
As if sensing sothing, the other previously apathetic laborers raised their heads, soone even dipping a finger into the bleeding pool on the ground and sucking it into their mouth.
Ring City has enough food to feed these people, but none of it reaches the hands of the poor.
Gluttony often equates to waste.
The Dark Ceremony that enshrouds the city, slices reality into two worlds.
Every day, soone scours through heaps of garbage delivered from the Noble District for leftover scraps, and these trash heaps sustain countless swarms of sewer rats and maggots.
A squad of fully ard guards hurried over, led by a captain who was a stout and burly man, once robust, now fat and strong.
He saw the scene before him, drew his sharp sword without hesitation, and thrust it directly at the laborer gnawing the rchant’s neck.
Squish!
The sharp sword pierced right through the laborer’s heart. The guard captain flipped the body over and glanced at his slightly green-tinged pupils, somberly saying, "Dispose of the body."
This laborer ate what he should not have.
Two slightly portly guards picked up the laborer’s body and moved out because, due to the incident here, the Garrison District had dispatched a patrol team swiftly. A Sheriff, as robust as a pig, soon arrived, dismounting from the wagon while wiping sweat. Minutes later, guards had the street sealed off.
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