Galos winced in pain at his newest stripes. His people weren't given access to bandages, so they had to make do the best they could.
After being whipped, he was immediately given the order to set up the storage tent and unload the cargo, so he only had a moment to try to treat his wounds. The best he could do was to pack the worst of it with mud in an attempt to stem the bleeding. He would see to it better later when he had time, otherwise, he would just get more stripes.
After carefully setting down one of the many artifacts, he made his way back to the damaged wagon and climbed in with a few others to start moving the heavier items.
"Galos... You should take it easy until those wounds close."
"Nonsense! I feel fine enough."
Galos gave a well-pacticed smile to hide the pain. He might be a whimpering mess while receiving punishment, but he had long since learned to cultivate optimism by showing a lighter side. Even if it didn't match what he felt, a smile went a long way for those around him.
"Be sure to lift with your legs, men. Let's get this work done quickly."
The three other slaves gave each other uncertain glances before reluctantly grabbing their respective sides of the first case. With all four working together, they lifted it with relative ease. After a few moments of silence, the man to Galos's left spoke up.
"I hear we're going to the Capitol for an auction. Last time we were in a big city, they had us cleaned up real nice."
The man on the opposite side responded scornfully.
"Really? What, did they give you fancy soap?"
"Well, yes, actually. If we're to be in sight of the higher class, they'll probably require us to be more presentable... Though I imagine the ugly ones will be kept out of sight."
"Huh?! What are you trying to say?"
The two bantered back and forth as they worked. At times it sounded like they might go fist-to-face with each other, but they kept working alongside the other as if their words meant nothing at all. Galos found it strange- perhaps this was a kind of rivalry? He climbed back into the wagon, readying to lift the next case. But when he approached it, he suddenly felt a pressure descend on him.
All of a sudden, he felt a bit heavier, as if the air around him had become a weighted fog. Galos's eyes widened. The pressure moved around his body quickly, only lingering on the iron collar around his neck. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished.
Galos stood there, dumbfounded as the others continued their banter and took their positions around the case. They lifted it up and continued on, not noticing anything had happened. Galos was too shocked to do anything about it, defaulting to just quietly doing his part. He was bewildered, but in the end, he didn't even mention it to the others.
---
The machine swiftly reached out to inspect one of the working men. He wanted to check for mistreatment, seeing if they seemed malnourished or injured. Determining that by feel alone would have been difficult if not for the solid metal he discovered around the man's neck. The poor guy flinched when he first made contact, but didn't seem to panic.
'These really are slaves.'
Having confirmed his suspicions, he quickly let go of the man and hoped he hadn't drawn any attention. He mentally held his breath as they moved him to a new location, but his worries were unnecessary. His container was set down alongside the others and the slaves continued on with their work. If he still had lungs, he would have sighed in relief.
Having confirmed what he wanted to know, the machine started considering options of what to do. The obvious main goal was to regenerate his body and escape, but first he wanted to do something to help these slaves.
Was it possible to free them? Or perhaps he should first ask if he should. It was easy to assume these were innocent people caught in the net of evil men. But what if that were wrong? Slavery might be a punishment for extreme crimes. He didn't know who these people were, what they had done to get here, or what they might do if he set them free. If he wasn't careful, he might end up releasing dreadful criminals into the world.
There was too great a lack of information, and the machine found hasty decisions irresponsible.
With the padding surrounding his case, he couldn't see anything for himself, and trying to feel the world around him was both difficult and impractical. It was certainly worth practicing, but he hoped there might be something else he could use to gather information.
'Open skill shop.'
A blue light flickered over his vision, opening the requested interface. Luckily, the menu was still in one piece, unhindered by his shattered optical lense.
----
{Skill Shop}
[SP: 1] [Movement Boost]
[SP: 2] [Dark Bolt]
[SP: 3] [Shadow Tether]
[SP: 4] [Torment]
[SP: 4] [Intimidate]
[SP: 4] [Thief's Blessing]
[SP: 4] [Strategist's Blessing]
[SP: 5] [Overclock]
[SP: 5] [Swordsman's Blessing]
[SP: 6] [Dream Casting]
[SP: 7] [Trapper's Wisdom]
[SP: 8] [Track]
[SP: 8] [Stealth]
[SP: 9] [Camouflage]
[SP: 10] [Creator's Guide]
[SP: 10] [Energy Barrier]
----
The machine eyed his options, wishing he could know what these skills actually did before buying them. He could guess some of them pretty easily, but others were rather obscure.
After some contemplation, the machine purchased the [Dream Casting] skill. It took all his skill points, but this was the only option that might be useful for gathering information.
This time, he felt something change the moment he bought the skill. His mind felt hot, like information had just been seared into his memory, though it didn't hurt. After a moment, the heat faded. It seemed he wouldn't have any instructions on how to use this skill either, and he doubted he could use it on anyone unless they were asleep.
As he thought, the machine started to mend his crippled body. He would get caught if he came out in prime condition, so he decided to only fix the things people wouldn't notice.
Quiet crackling sounded as fractured glass shifted. Glass dust fell from the demon's face, collecting in the crimson felt lining the bottom of the display case. It was a minor detail, but the demon's eye would be restored the next time anyone saw it.
The machine watched in fascination as his fractured vision slowly corrected itself, the disjointed sections gravitating back together. The cracks gradually began to fuse, finally resulting in a flawless restoration of his vision.
Satisfied, the machine returned his attention to his newest skill, [Dream Casting]. There was plenty to theorize over, and he wouldn't have to wait long to test it out.