The Train at Hell's Edge

Nine hours later, a metal freight train packed with "cargo" stopped at a station outside Kyoto, one belonging exclusively to Tanba Industries.

When the carriage doors were pulled open, the stench of excrement and urine burst forth. Bright flashlights shone inside, illuminating one haggard, disheveled face after another.

They were crowded together—men and women, young and old.

Their faces were bloodless, some pale, some waxy yellow, none of them healthy. Some shrank back uneasily. Some nervously took the lead. Some young girls bit their lips, desperately wiped their faces clean, straightened their backs, and quietly tugged their collars lower, trying their best to display their value.

Others were filled with hatred and fury, gritting their teeth.

Most no longer had the strength.

They merely lay numbly on the ground, breathing blankly.

Without exception, they were all mixed-bloods.

In the silence, Lin Shijiu looked at those gazes, seeming to want to speak, but quickly looked away and turned to leave.

As he stepped off the train, he said to the person waiting there, "Trouble you to count them, Ueno-kun. Get them washed and inspected. Hurry up and finish before the next batch arrives."

The burly, sharp-toothed Gokudō nodded. Without wasting words, he pulled up the hood of his raincoat and waved behind him. More than a dozen people immediately rushed in with short batons, beginning the rough yet efficient "unloading."

The whistle shrieked.

From time to time came harsh urging and angry curses.

The mixed-bloods were driven from the freight cars one by one. Whether they cooperated or resisted, someone immediately stripped them naked, regardless of gender or age, fastened plastic wristbands printed with codes around their wrists, locked them tight, and shoved a small bar of soap into their hands.

Then, outside the carriage doors and against the wall, the