Slave market.
Huo Tang looked at the six figures before him. Before coming here, he had considered that skilled craftsmen would inevitably be scarce slaves.
Even if they were old, weak, sick, or disabled, he would accept them.
If they could not work, he could still bring them back and have them teach the tribesmen.
But after seeing these slaves, Huo Tang understood that his wishful thinking was still just wishful thinking.
"Those with skills have always been hot commodities. If these people weren't crippled or injured, they wouldn't have lasted until now."
Jia Gu began the introductions. "These two are full-fledged blacksmiths. These four are apprentices."
"You. Come over and hold out your hands."
The young man lowered his head and dragged his feet forward two steps, spreading open his hands covered in thick calluses.
"See? These are marks left by gripping a hammer for a long time. Check them however you like."
Huo Tang inspected each of the slaves present and found smoke and scorch marks on all their bodies, with heavy calluses on their hands—the sort formed from gripping hammer handles.
They looked just like the blacksmiths in his tribe.
Once Huo Tang had finished inspecting them, Jia Gu spoke again. "Slave deaths are very common. These people have already been worn dry. Are you sure you want to buy them?"
He was certain Huo Tang would buy them. Otherwise, he would not have waited these extra days.
Slaves dying was an ordinary occurrence. Even fine slaves bought back by others had a death rate of twenty to thirty percent within a short period.
They had endured the destruction of their tribes, the slaughter of their kin, a long journey of displacement, and spiritual torment. Their bodies had long since been ruined.
If they were lucky, two