"A bloodbath..."
Chu Mu murmured. In his eyes, the drab, yellow mountain of the mine seemed to be veiled in blood.
Although he didn't know the exact reason... it wasn't hard to guess.
After all, back when the mine was still relatively peaceful and he was a Guardian there, he had often worried about a rebellion breaking out.
He had read through all sorts of books, and the numerous accounts of past uprisings at the Nanshan Iron Ore confirmed his worries were not unfounded.
And could the Nanshan Iron Ore of today even be compared to what it once was?
In the past, at the Nanshan Iron Ore, they were at least just mining normal iron ore. Any danger to life was largely accidental.
But recently, it was no longer about accidents.
The memory of that day—the hundreds of ice sculptures, the inexplicable chill—was still vivid in his mind.
After all this time, how many more lives had been buried in that sealed-off mining camp?
And how many more would be buried now?
