He walked through the carnage without looking down, stepped over bodies and pooling blood with casual indifference, and returned to the elevated platform.
Once there, he turned to face the thousands of demons who'd watched the entire massacre with paralyzed horror.
His voice remained flat, emotionless, as if nothing interesting had just occurred.
"Sign. Now."
The response was cold and indifferent.
Demons stampeded toward the scattered contracts, scrambling over each other in desperation to comply.
Guards who'd hesitated before now fought to be first, terrified that delay might be interpreted as resistance.
Overseers abandoned any pretense of dignity, crawling on hands and knees to reach the nearest parchment.
Slaves who'd already signed grabbed blank contracts anyway, just in case, clutching them like talismans of protection.
Better to have signed twice than risk being mistaken for someone who hadn't signed at all.
