My territory is filled with block creations.

Chapter 32 Live Well

Perhaps because the wind blows from the north all year round, the working-class areas, market areas, and even all kinds of filthy and low-class areas in almost every city are located in the south of the city.

The biggest advantage of such an arrangement in the eyes of those superiors is that the stench, sweat, and animal odor will be blown away by the wind, and they won't be bothered by it.

The first to be affected were various livestock markets, compost pits on the outskirts of the city, slums, and slave camps.

After all, slaves are still human beings, and they can't be treated like inanimate objects, simply renting a warehouse and neatly stacking them there.

All day long, just eating, drinking, and relieving oneself would create a whole host of troubles and problems. After all, Baron was just a small merchant. He didn't have enough iron to put a chain on every slave, and he couldn't simply starve them for a few meals.

After all, skin and bones don't fetch a good price. Big merchants can win by selling entire shiploads of goods, while I can only improve the quality of my products.

Therefore, he had no choice but to use a more sophisticated and primitive management method. Accompanied by his guards, he personally went to the slave warehouse, dragging behind him a man with a leather waistband and broken limbs.

The warehouse where the slaves were held was small and dark, with only a few skylights with iron bars at the very top providing basic ventilation and light so that they wouldn't suffocate inside.

But as for the smell?

Anyway, every time Barron comes here, he wishes he could bring two or three towels, then pinch his nose and get things done as quickly as possible before running away.

For example, right now, he waved his hand, signaling the guards behind him to throw the escaped slave, whose limbs had already been broken, onto the ground.

"This bastard tried to run away three days ago, saying he was looking for someone very important. Now I've caught him and I'm going to show you what happens when you try to run away."

"Now, each of you come up and beat him up until he's dead. If you don't, you won't get any food."

After Barron finished speaking, he consciously took a few steps back.

Based on past experience, most of these numb slaves would stand there dumbfounded for an unknown amount of time before the first person made a move.

This amount of time is enough for the awful smell to dissipate from his lunch, so choosing a place where the smell isn't too overpowering is a pretty good idea.

However, this time, unexpectedly, the awful smell that made his nose and chest ache didn't torment him for long. Just as he uttered the last sentence, "If you don't beat him, you won't get any food," a figure stepped out from the crowd and swayed over to the side of the slave whose limbs were all broken.

He straddled the slave, clenched his fists, and punched the slave in the face repeatedly.

The sounds of banging and banging were incessant, as if some immense hatred was being forcefully vented, without stopping for a moment.

Baron, who had initially thought it would take several minutes before the first slave would act, was pleasantly surprised by what he saw.

Firstly, I don't have to stay in this place any longer and smell that awful odor.

Secondly, the man in front of him who kept punching the slaves was quite to his liking, especially compared to the slaves not far away who were watching this scene with blank and fearful expressions. This feeling of liking was even stronger.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but stroke his chin, then took a step back. After taking the step back, he drew a gleaming silver dagger from his waist and casually threw it on the ground.

The man who was relentlessly punching the slave saw the dagger, raised his head in surprise, glanced back at Baron, and only after seeing Baron nod almost imperceptibly did he pick up the dagger and plunge it into the slave's chest without the slightest hesitation.

With a series of splattering sounds, blood gushed down his face. Then, as if relieved, he threw the dagger to the ground, unbuckled the man's belt, and tied it around his own neck.

Barron, watching this scene, had no intention of stopping it. Instead, he nodded and said, "You have food to eat today, but the others don't."

Today's show of force was relatively successful, but not entirely successful. It was successful because the escaped slave died a gruesome death. It was unsuccessful because all the slaves were killed by one person, without involving all the other slaves.

However, in a sense, this is not so bad, right? At least his purpose in doing this was to make the slaves easier to manage.

Now, a temporary worker who oversees slaves has stepped forward on his own.

Thinking of this, he looked at the swaying, blood-covered man and nodded: "From today onwards, all the slaves in this warehouse are under your command. If they disobey, beat them to death. Do you understand?"

The man swallowed hard as he listened to Barron's words and nodded.

"Pick up the dagger on the ground, it's yours," Baron continued.

The man bent down to pick up the dagger, and Baron threw the scabbard over, then inserted the dagger into it and fastened it to his belt.

Baron watched this scene without saying anything.

After all, the person in front of him was, in a sense, a temporary worker doing his job, and it was normal for him to consider the belt as a way for the other person to skim some extra money off him.

As he left a small bag of dry food and was about to depart, he suddenly remembered something. Although he was still just an ordinary small businessman, his standard of living had reached a considerable level.

In order to maintain this comfortable standard of living and enjoy it as much as possible, it is also very necessary to strengthen one's own protection. Otherwise, this person in front of me is quite to my liking, so I should investigate him first.

"What's your name?" Baron asked with a smile.

"...My name is Lester." Lester spoke instinctively, but found his lips were stuck together by the dried blood that had splattered on them. It took him a little effort to open his mouth and say the words.

Baron nodded. "I'll remember you." With that, he left with his guards, leaving behind only the small bag of dry rations on the ground.

Actually, it was supposed to be a big bucket of sticky human food, but since the people in this slave warehouse were not very lucky today and didn't even dare to get a help, they saved themselves a day's worth of food.

As soon as Barron left, Lester picked up the small bag of dry rations from the ground and wolfed it down his throat.

But then he suddenly heard an untimely voice.

"You beast! You just killed him like that? Do you have any humanity left?"

Lester didn't even look up: "If we don't kill them, we won't eat. What if we starve to death?"

"I'd rather starve than be as inhuman as you!"

Lester then looked up and saw the person, a woman who looked to be about twenty years old, and whose appearance was rather indescribable.

That's normal. If they were good-looking, they wouldn't have ended up in this ordinary slave warehouse. In short, they're just like most of the ordinary slaves in this warehouse—worthless.

Even slaves who can't sell their bodies or have the strength to work will be priced even lower, meaning...

Thinking this, he threw the last piece of dry rations into his mouth, walked step by step toward the woman, drew his dagger, and slammed it down with the hilt.

I had no intention of defending myself or explaining anything to others. I only knew one thing: someone had told me that my life was precious and that I had to live on! Live well!