The firelight illuminated the faces of these men, all numb, eyes vacant, movements mechanical, resembling anything but humans, even less than the oxen and horses plowing the fields.
The cold wind blew past, causing the flames to flicker, revealing processed and polished stone slabs piled up nearby.
"Work faster; if the slabs aren't enough this month, your heads will be relocated!"
A supervisor kicked out violently, the stones crashing onto a worker, who collapsed in pain.
"I dare you people to slack off!" the supervisor glared threateningly.
The nearby workers were too angry to speak, while those further away pretended not to see, carrying the stones with numbness.
Such situations were too common; almost every worker had experienced them, unable to resist nor having the strength to do so.
In the center of the quarry, there was a pot boiling, a table, and a stool.
The pot was stewing tofu, with the aroma of meat wafting, making the guards stationed there swallow their saliva.
