Obsidian Mining Area.

In a pitch-black corner near the slave camp without torch illumination, a rock embedded in the wall corner suddenly shook and moved aside, revealing a dark passage.

"Eeek..."

A green slime struggled to squeeze its head out from inside, then with a "pop" sound, it shot out from the hole, rolling several times on the rough ground until it hit the camp's wooden fence before stopping.

At the hole entrance, Chubby One also poked out its gel head, but it was much fatter than Nanny Brother, its round bottom wriggling and struggling uselessly inside the hole, just unable to get out, so it looked at Nanny Brother with pitiful eyes.

"Brother, save me."

Nanny Brother shook its slightly dizzy head from the impact, hopping over with "squish squish" sounds, sticking to its body and pulling outward, while two beetles inside the hole desperately pushed Chubby One's butt.

"One, two, three... pull!"

Nanny Brother leaned its entire body backward, exerting all its strength to drag backward.

"One, two...!"

"Eee—yah!"

The three forces suddenly erupted.

Chubby One shot up from the ground like a cannonball with a "whoosh" sound, drawing an arc in the air, flying over the low wooden fence, and with a "splat" sound, landed squarely in the center of the slave camp.

"Huh?!"

Oh no.

With such a big commotion, Nanny Brother was so frightened its entire body froze stiff, pressed against the fence not daring to move.

The two beetles in the hole were also dumbfounded, looking at each other as if silently arguing: "Just now... who used too much force?"

Nanny Brother quickly quietly approached the wooden fence, peeking nervously through the gaps between the planks.

Fortunately, Chubby One reacted quickly, creating an illusion to disguise itself as a rock after landing, not drawing attention from those slaves.

Just as Nanny Brother was about to bubble with relief, the camp's silence was suddenly broken as the slaves who had been curled under shabby shelters in tattered clothes began to stir.

In their turbid, numb eyes appeared frightened light, all gazes uniformly turning toward the direction of the camp entrance.

Following these lines of sight, three figures could be seen swaggering into the slave camp.

Leading was a goblin overseer brandishing a leather whip, its ugly triangular face wearing a cruel grin, revealing uneven yellow teeth.

Behind it followed two taller, fiercer goblin soldiers, wearing crude but sturdy iron-plate armor, with one-handed hammers hanging at their waists, the copper nails on them still bearing indelible blood stains.

They emitted sharp, piercing laughter, their malicious gazes sweeping through the camp as if selecting unlucky victims.

The goblin overseer swaggered to the center of the camp, noticed the "rock" obstructing the way on the ground, and casually kicked it away without concern.

The strange foot sensation made the goblin overseer disgustedly rub its boot sole against a nearby wooden stake, spitting: "Pah! This damn place, even the rocks are sticky, so disgusting."

It cleared its throat, its sharp voice like a rusty saw pulling, instantly overwhelming the camp's suppressed breathing.

"Listen, you filthy maggots! Don't think you can fool the great goblins."

"Who was it last night? Who dared to sneak out of the camp?! Step forward!"

Dead silence.

Then, intense commotion.

Tattered-clothed humans, sturdy but dust-covered dwarves, slender gnomes... all slaves looked up in terror, glancing at each other, their turbid eyes filled with fear and a hint of suppressed anger.

They had been implicated.

In this abyss of the Obsidian Mining Area, the goblins had established a bloody rule—if one escapes, all are punished.

Once implicated, they would be whipped, have their already meager food rations reduced, or even be thrown into the most dangerous depths of the mine... every "collective punishment" meant getting one step closer to death.

The two goblin soldiers grinned, revealing yellow-black pointed teeth, weighing the heavy one-handed hammers in their hands, the dark red blood stains on the copper nails appearing particularly glaring in the dim light.

The hammer heads collided with each other, emitting dull, threatening "thump thump" sounds.

The goblin overseer looked satisfied at the fear on the slaves' faces, grinning as it said: "Master Uru is in a good mood today. As long as you're willing to identify that traitor, not only will you avoid punishment, but you'll also get a whole piece of black bread."

"Speak, who was it?"

The words "black bread" acted like a magic spell, causing another wave of suppressed commotion in the camp.

The slaves' eyes flashed with hungry green light, their gazes becoming shifty, filled with suspicion and greed, scraping over former companions like knives.

A emaciated human slave's eyes flickered violently, his throat moving as if about to speak.

"It was me!"

A hoarse voice rang out, overwhelming all the whispers.

The crowd parted, and a dwarf with bronze-like skin and tangled beard stepped forward.

He wasn't tall, but stood as steady as a weather-beaten rock, his eyes showing no trace of fear.

His name was Anvil, a name that had once accompanied him forging glory beside furnace fires and hammers, but now had become a humble number in the mine.

"Hmph, the short stubby one has hard bones!"

The goblin overseer narrowed its triangular eyes, grinning as it waved its hand, "Drag him over!"

The two goblin soldiers immediately pounced like hungry wolves, roughly twisting Anvil's thick arms, dragging him before the overseer.

Anvil didn't struggle, just clenched his teeth tightly, his bronze face tense.

"Whack!"

Without any warning, the leather whip tore through the air, viciously lashing across Anvil's broad back. The rough linen instantly tore open, a ferocious blood mark bursting forth, flesh torn and curled.

"Ugh!"

Anvil's body shuddered violently, emitting a muffled groan, veins bulging on his forehead, bean-sized sweat drops rolling down, but he clenched his teeth tightly, not making a sound.

"Tough? Let's see how long you can stay tough!"

The overseer was angered by his silence, its triangular face twisting, the whip in its hand becoming a blur.

"Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack—!"

The whip like a venomous snake, madly biting at the dwarf's resilient body, each strike bringing forth a spray of blood mist and torn cloth fragments.

Anvil's body trembled violently under the whipping, his back, shoulders, and arms quickly becoming a bloody mess, blood soaking through the torn clothing, dripping onto the muddy ground.

He still didn't scream, only emitting suppressed low growls from deep in his throat.

The surrounding slaves watched in horror, some turning away unable to watch, others with complex expressions in their eyes, the greed in their eyes instantly extinguished by the cruelty before them, leaving only fear and the desolation of shared misfortune.

After who knew how many lashes, until Anvil's body went limp, no longer having the strength to stand, only kept upright by the two goblin soldiers holding him.

The overseer finally stopped, panting heavily, shaking the blood off its whip, disgustedly kicking the nearly unconscious Anvil to the ground.

"Pah! Useless trash!"

It spat on the ground, its triangular eyes sweeping over the terrified slave group, then casually pointed at a few human slaves.

"You! And you! Come here!"

Screams rang out again.

The overseer mercilessly whipped those unlucky ones until they rolled on the ground in pain, until they passed out from the agony.

It stepped on a unconscious slave's face with its boot.

"Everyone look clearly! Next time I discover someone daring to sneak out, it won't be as simple as eating whips. I'll nail your hands and feet to the rocks, let the venomous rock scorpions slowly chew away your flesh! Understood?!"

Facing this naked threat, all slaves deeply lowered their heads, no one daring to make a sound.

The goblin overseer looked satisfied at this dead silent "submission," leaving the camp with the soldiers while emitting piercing mockery, swaggering away.

Only when that laughter completely disappeared deep in the mine tunnels did the camp regain signs of life.

The slaves, with post-calamity numbness, dragged those whipped unconscious companions back to their shelters.

"It's all his fault! If he hadn't tried to run..."

"Making everyone go hungry together..."

"Forget it, forget it."

Low curses spread through the crowd.

Complaining—this was one of the few ways they could vent their emotions.

In a hidden corner of the shelter, several tattered-clothed human slaves took advantage of the chaos to quickly carry the unconscious Anvil back.

A young boy among them now had tears welling in his eyes, tightly grasping Anvil's cold hand, his voice choked with self-blame.

"It's all my fault... all because I wasn't careful and got seen, making Big Brother Anvil..."

"Shh! Little John, don't speak!"

A man with a ferocious scar on his face immediately covered the young boy's mouth.

The man was called Kane, the leader of this group of slaves.

His sharp gaze scanned outside the shelter, "They're watching us."

Little John followed Kane's gaze and saw that the slaves outside were casting looks filled with resentment and hostility at them, as if they were the real culprits.

Kane and his companions felt a wave of desolation rising from their hearts.

Even though they had all fallen to become slaves, in this lightless mine, people were still filled with suspicion and resentment toward each other, unable to truly unite.

They hastily examined Anvil's injuries, their hearts sinking to the bottom.

The whip marks were deep enough to see bone, excessive blood loss, combined with the mine's harsh environment and scarce food—even with a dwarf's robust physique, in such a weakened state, it was probably... hope was slim.

"Big Brother Anvil he..."

A companion's voice was hoarse, filled with despair, "He might... not make it."

A heavy atmosphere enveloped this small corner, despair like cold stones pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

Soon the slave camp returned to calm, the slaves returning to their own shelters, keeping watch around, leaving only Little John to care for Anvil, while they left behind their scarce food.

After who knew how long, Chubby One hidden in the camp's dark shadows moved slightly.

Hmph!

Remembering the kick from the goblin overseer earlier, its gel body swelled with anger.

This grudge, little me will remember!

After muttering for a while, its gaze fell on the severely injured dwarf.

Chen Yu looked through its vision—if he wasn't mistaken, that group of human slaves caring for the dwarf were the corrupted believers he had seen during his last exploration of the mining area.

The slaves in the mining area came from different races, different places, with numerous and varied beliefs, so finding a few corrupted believers among them was quite normal.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

A way to contact the corrupted believers and complete his villain plan.

Only when the camp completely fell into exhausted dead silence did Chubby One and Nanny Brother reunite, under Chen Yu's command silently avoiding scattered debris and sleeping slaves, slowly moving toward the location of the severely injured dwarf.