As soon as the large crowd of captives and the guards guiding them entered the cave, it was as if they had stepped into an entirely different world.
The air around Freddy was different; the floor beneath his feet was colder, softer, and covered in wild growth.
The cave mouth was large, leading into a gigantic open cavern, with fungal and bushy growth all over the walls and floor and massive vines hanging from above. Everything looked shiny and slimy, and the sounds of footsteps echoed endlessly.
The peculiar smell reminded him of the back of the warehouse he used to work in, where numerous old boxes rotted and the walls were covered in mold, but with a distinct sludgy tint that reminded him of the small patch of marsh he used to train by.
Several hundred people had decided—at least those who had a real choice, if anyone did—to join this expedition. Everyone here seemed to be a male. Women were likely sent to a different camp.
Despite the large cavern, this still made quite the crowd.
The captives were led down a path carved through the growth, and eventually, they made it to the back of the cavern. Large crystals in rusty metal frames comprised the lanterns hanging off the walls that lit their path forward, and as the cave reached its end, the trail of light took them into a narrow entrance that went deeper underground.
A metal barrier encased a part of the wall just to the right of that entrance. Most likely, there was a passage behind it.
Every passage realm had at least two passages within, depending on the size and shape of the dimension.
There were A-class passage realms ranging from the size of a room to the size of a large building, B-class passage realms that were usually the size of a biome, and C-class passage realms that comprised gigantic, sprawling environments.
The realm they found themselves in was C-000421, or, rather, Faralethal, as it had been named. While it was classified with C-class realms, it would likely be placed into an entirely different category, given that it seemed to contain an entire, spherical planet, many times the size of New Earth.
When one entered a realm, one could go through another passage, leading to an entirely different space. The further one went out, or, rather, the more “steps” they took, the number of possible realms they could reach multiplied exponentially. The quasi-fourth-dimensional space with a near-infinite number of realms was called the interspace.
It suddenly made much more sense why he was still alive. Because this place was a virtually inescapable prison. Even if he managed to run away from the encampment, he’d be completely lost and at the mercy of so many monstrosities that he would be quickly reduced to a mere snack.
That realization made him grit his teeth. Survival here would be a lot more complicated than he realized. As he stood, he didn’t even have a shred of a plan.
The prisoners were lined up and instructed to go down the tight path one at a time. It took a while of waiting, but eventually, he entered the narrow corridor carved into stone. There was enough space to walk upright with his head held high, but some of the taller captives ahead had to hunch a bit.
This path appeared man-made, forming a circular tube through the ground that spiraled smoothly. The floor had been carved into rough, slippery steps. Moss and mold gathered on the walls, and the swampy stench worsened as he entered the constrained path.
He, along with every other captive here, was entirely barefooted. Many of those in front and behind him lagged because their feet were too soft to tolerate the occasionally sharp and always slippery floor of the cave corridor.
He had no such problems. His feet were as tough as tanned leather, and his pain tolerance would allow him to push through even if they weren’t.
The stench wasn’t intolerable, but the air became more challenging to inhale the deeper they went. He felt his throat tighten as it grew more sore by the minute, whether it be due to allergies or the naturally irritating properties of whatever he was inhaling. Soon enough, the tight tunnel echoed with numerous people fighting for air; some even seemed to be on the brink of a panic attack.
Suddenly, a masculine voice echoed around them, “Don’t worry about the air! You will get used to it eventually.”
Splendid.
Not only was that voice thunderous, but everything was. The loopy, tubular shape of the tunnel echoed constantly, and he could hear the endless pitter-patter of feet as if the entire expedition were walking on top of his head.
Every so often, someone, somewhere in the line, would cough or yelp, and each time, it sounded as if they were doing so directly behind him. The fact that he was missing an entire ear didn’t help since he couldn’t tell which direction the sounds were coming from. This was highly disorienting.
He still had the hole that led to his eardrum, and he could somewhat hear things, but if anything, he felt that the quieter, muffled hearing of his injured ear only made the situation worse.
Eventually, they reached another natural cavern, one more overgrown but distinctly less verdant. Sickly blue and sludgy brown were the primary colors of plant life in this cave, although some species still stubbornly clung to shades of gooey green.
Their trip through the natural cavern was brief, and it wasn’t long until they were again making their way down a man-made tunnel.
The difference in how sound traveled between the open caverns and the tunnels was staggering. There was no echo in the overgrown rooms as the plant growth absorbed much of the sound, giving him the occasional, momentary reprieve from the noise.
Their trip continued for hours, heading deeper down. People constantly complained about headaches, but he had no such problem. Yes, the air stank, it was damn cold, and both his eardrums popped due to the change in pressure, but other than that, he was fine.
It was most likely due to Hundred Wet Hells, which had, at that point, made his body quite resistant. The cold was the only thing that bothered him, but he could endure it just fine.
Eventually, they stepped out of a tunnel that had been closed off by a metal gate, and after walking out of it, he realized they had finally reached their encampment.
The cavern that most likely served as their base of operations was quite spacious. It was still overgrown, but a far cry from the wild, unrestrained flora of the underground they had been walking through.
Most of the growth here was green and leafy, and neat paths had been carved, leading through the maze of tall, heavy cloth tents stretching through most of the cave.
Countless workers strode around carrying mining equipment and large bags or carts of whatever they were extracting. Given the predominantly haggard looks of the workers, these were no voluntary employees either, it seemed. While the new arrivals were all completely bald, hairless men, many of the workers already there had grown their hair back out.
Their party was taken through the maze of tents and over to a large clearing, where they were instructed to sit in organized rows and wait for a lecture to begin. Freddy couldn’t help but sigh deeply as soon as he spotted the man who would be holding their lecture.
Stephen White, the slimy middleman who acted as the “debt repayment manager” for the Kraven Clan, stepped onto a shabby, wooden platform in front of the large crowd and pulled out a small microphone. He was almost impressed at how much he hated this person despite only a single prior meeting. Truly a champion of ass-hattery.
No fucking wonder the man had a vested interest in getting more people to come to this death trap. He would be the one profiting from their labor.
“Greetings, gentlemen!” he said, his cheerful voice echoing around them. “And welcome to Camp Violet!”
Sure sounds inviting, he thought sarcastically, shaking his head in amusement.
“I have already met all of you personally, and I hope we can have a decent work relationship from now on! Now!” he said, scratching his beard and taking a few steps as he walked around the platform. “I will be telling you all about your role here! Don’t worry if you fail to keep up with everything. At the end of the introduction, you will be handed a guidebook containing all the information you are about to receive—and more.
“First, I’d like to warmly welcome all of you and establish some ground rules, as well as give you a few words of advice,” he said, pausing for a second and eyeing the crowd. “The most important thing to remember is to be civil. Do not get into disputes with your coworkers! At best, you will be disciplined; at worse, you will be monetarily penalized; and in the worst-case scenario, you will be kicked out of the expedition.”
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A deathly silence spilled over the entire room. Everyone knew what that meant.
“Now!” he said, turning around. “We understand that you are all archhumans. We know that some of you are warriors and that, as such, you have your pride and that combat is an essential aspect of your life.
“So, if you have any disputes you wish to resolve and decide that the only way to do so is through confrontation, you can participate in a sanctioned duel. There is an arena in one of the abandoned yellow zones. Keep in mind that we’re always keeping an eye on it, so don’t get too wild. Do remember that both participants need to give their consent. But before it gets to that point, I will clarify something immediately.
“You do not and cannot ‘own’ a territory. You aren’t entitled to any resources unless you’ve extracted them and brought them back yourself.” He paused for emphasis again and glanced around the room. “Any confrontation judged to have been started over territorial disputes will always result in an immediate expulsion from the expedition.
“With that out of the way, there is another important thing to remember. You will quickly discover that there is no such thing as a ‘fence’ keeping you contained here. There won’t be guards or supervisors around while you work, and some might consider this an opportunity to shun their moral and legal responsibilities and escape through the caves.
“If you do this, you will die,” he said, yet again letting the statement sink in. “We have mercenaries patrolling the areas we have already explored, so we can say with relative certainty that you won’t be at risk as long as you stay within the marked and illuminated part of the caverns. But outside the borders of the territory we have claimed… terrible things lurk. Creatures that could put even three or four-star warriors at risk of life or limb. Putting yourself in their path is suicide.
“There are many rules, all of which you can discover in your guidebook, so I will not be covering every single one. But there is one more thing you do need to know. You will be given a daily quota to fulfill. Two days out of every seven, you can take a break, and you are allowed to miss the quota thrice a month or more if you provide a valid reason, such as a debilitating injury or illness.
“And that quota is 3,500 dollars a day.”
That elicited gasps and angry yells from the crowd, but the man quickly waved them down. “I know that sounds absurd. And, if we are being honest, it is. But this… This is why all of the powerful factions of New Earth are doing their best to establish themselves on Faralethal as soon as possible. You will quickly learn that this isn’t a very strict quota. In fact, on average, the workers already established here fulfill that quota in roughly three hours of work a day.”
That elicited more gasps and yells, but they sounded entirely different this time.
“Yes, my good people,” he offered, spreading his arms out. “Humanity is entering an era of prosperity and wealth unlike any other we have experienced. And you! You are at the front lines.”
Freddy rolled his eyes in exasperation.
The man continued, “There are more rules and regulations to cover, but I will leave that up to you. Please read the guidebooks, lest you find yourself in trouble. And now, I believe it is time for my good friend Killean to take over.”
The following person who walked up was a skinny but muscular man with long hair and an unkempt, scruffy beard. The first topic he covered was the equipment they would be provided and a rough guideline on how to use it. Examples of everything he showed appeared on a massive projection floating beside him.
They would all be provided standard mining equipment in the form of a pickaxe, a hammer and chisel, a sledgehammer and wedge, protective gear, a weight-reducing holding bag, and a foldable cartwheel, as well as an assortment of cutting tools and numerous pieces of optional equipment, depending on personal preference or predisposition.
Next, he covered the basics of what they were doing there. Their goal was to extract ore, first and foremost. First, he covered ores that could be discovered on earth, including copper, iron, gold, silver, platinum, and so on, what their respective ores and veins looked like, and how to find them.
Then, he covered ores unique to this planet. There were many, and yet again, the captives were instructed to reference the guidebook. The man showed crystals, gems, metals, and other exotic materials that could be discovered here.
Some among them were so valuable that even a single fingernail-sized piece could cover the daily quota more than ten times over—the most expensive among them, a white crystal named “tzenekite,” cost over 100,000 dollars per gram—a mindboggling sum.
Some of these materials, including tzenekite, required special care during their extraction, transportation, and storage, so everyone was instructed to read the guidebook carefully before interacting with anything unfamiliar.
After finishing the descriptions of what they were looking for, the man briefly covered all the secondary ways money could be earned. Certain monster corpses could be sold for a sum, although actively hunting them was heavily discouraged. Numerous plants, bugs, fungi, small animals, and more could be captured, and there were even the occasional free lectures explaining how to hunt and forage these species most efficiently.
Other than that, every so often, job postings would be placed on a board in the middle of their camp, usually with decent rates attached to them, and some individuals, if they believed their specific talent or abilities could be otherwise valuable, could file a form and request specialized jobs or roles.
After that was done, the man briefly described the most common dangers that could be found in the caves. Of course, the most common were the monsters, but those were far from the only threats to look out for.
Venomous bugs, poisonous mushrooms, unstable ground, shaky structural integrity, living plants that could either attack them or make traps, and apparently even spirits—which could temporarily manifest a physical form in reality and attack them.
Spirits were a personified ether construct that was a step up in power from remnants.
Since spirits could easily pose a two-star or three-star rank threat and appear out of thin air, they posed one of the most unpredictable risks in the caves, but that was a reality everywhere within the interspace.
Luckily enough, their appearance was rare, and more often than not, they wouldn’t engage in combat if unprovoked, and even if they did, their physical form could only last so long.
And finally, the thing that nobody wanted to hear—there was a threat that an eidolon might appear.
Eidola could maintain physical form indefinitely. In fact, they existed both in the Netherecho and in reality, transcending the barrier between the layers of existence. They posed a four or even five-star threat in some cases. So, if anyone came across an eidolon that decided to attack them, they would die. And given that constructs that reached that level of power were usually the aggressive ones, they almost always did precisely that.
The final thing that was discussed was the schedule. Or rather, the lack of one. The caverns had no day or night, so no strict work or sleep hours existed. There was, of course, still a public clock, a giant one attached to the ceiling above, keeping track of time so that everyone could know when they had to fulfill their quota.
They were also briefly shown the alarm—an incredibly grating warning that would be sounded in an emergency. If triggered, all workers were instructed to either hide or return to camp as soon as possible.
Once the introduction was over, all the captives were handed the guide and shown to their living quarters. Everyone received a small tent to sleep in. Trespassing in another worker’s living space was considered a serious offense, even if there was little to take from them. They were also shown where they could get their meals, and that was about it.
The next day would be their first day on the job, starting in twenty hours. Until then, they were free to do whatever they wanted.
The crowd dispersed, many in significantly higher spirits than one would expect slaves to be. But it wasn’t hard to tell why.
They had been granted a degree of freedom that nobody would expect to get working as a slave somewhere. Sure, their lives were at risk, but everyone was aware of that coming in. He was effectively forced to come, but he was sure that most others had a choice when picking where they wanted to work.
That begged the question—Was this operation legit?
He pondered that. Could the people here legitimately pay off the debt and then be allowed to leave? Some part of him absolutely refused to believe that was the case.
He was handed a slip with a number and went through the tents.
He found the tent with the number 765 written above the entrance flap and walked inside. It was tall enough to stand in and wide enough to lie comfortably. A small blanket and a futon were neatly rolled up to the side, and there were a few pairs of clothes and the pile of equipment they were provided.
A small lamp sat in the corner, and a testing pull on a string hanging from it showed that it worked just fine.
Overall, it was rather cozy.
Freddy picked through the equipment and found a canteen. Then he walked outside and strode over to the part of the camp where they served food.
A medium-sized stretch of land was free of any tents, instead populated by many tables and chairs. It was positively packed, and the sight of the long line made him instantly lose his appetite.
He instead walked over to one of the many large barrels standing to the side, turned the tap, and filled up his water canteen.
Most people didn’t notice him among the crowds, but those who caught sight of him instantly turned their gazes away.
Heading back to his tent, he limped past the crowd of people, accidentally overhearing some of the conversations.
Many were discussing their debts and how soon they believed they’d be able to pay them off, and he even overheard a man wondering whether he could choose to stay here and work indefinitely, even after he was done paying back what he “owed.”
It all imbued him with a strange, profoundly wrong sensation. He only overheard two people say how much they owed, and both numbers were meager, less than $200,000, which wasn’t a small number, but it paled compared to the sum they slapped on his ass.
Soon enough, he had left the crowd behind and was walking between the tents. It took him a good few minutes to track down his tent, and once he did, he entered, lying down to get some sleep.
But it wouldn’t come.
He knew damn well what was wrong.
They still didn’t know where Bloodshed was. Unless given solid enough evidence that it was gone, they would likely not stop searching for it. He could only reunite with Bloodshed if Kraven didn’t find it. And if Kraven didn’t find it, they would still consider him to hold the knowledge of its location.
And as long as they had any reason to believe he knew where it was, they wouldn’t let him walk away somewhere where he could retrieve it for himself—or provide another faction with information about its location.
His heartbeat sped up at the thought.
According to what Stephen had said, a debt of $200,000 wouldn’t take even three months to pay off. So why would they let him come to a place like this, where he could tell someone about to be set free where Bloodshed was?
The answer to that, as dark and depressing as it was, was simple.
It was because nobody would escape this expedition alive.