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Chapter 317: Memories.{3}
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... oing through the dimly lit lower district of the Hive city. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and despair, the narrow streets crowded with the downtrodden and the desperate.
"You damn slave! Can’t you carry it correctly!? Uh!?" another slaver shouted while lashing out with a whip at a young boy who had stumbled under the weight of the cargo he was forced to carry.
The boy cried out in pain, but the slavers showed no mercy; their laughter was cruel and unrelenting.
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