The receiving chamber of the Slave District was dimly lit, shaped like a hollow stone cube carved directly beneath the administrative building.
Torches burned in the corners, each flame tinged with a faint red hue that made every shadow seem alive. The room smelled faintly of old blood and cold rust. A stone table occupied the center and two armored guards stood beside it like statues.
Han Yu sat on a plain bench along the wall, hands clasped tightly enough that his knuckles were white. His mind was calm only on the surface. Inside, everything churned.
When he heard the metallic clanking of chains from the corridor, his heart lurched.
Then she appeared.
Two zombie guards dragged a woman between them. She wore the standard slave robe, dull gray and thin enough that the outline of her figure showed clearly beneath it. Her wrists were bound in thick chains. A metal collar was clasped around her neck, etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a beating heart.
