Return to My Loyal DC

The Labor Reform Camp's cotton fields stretched as far as the eye could see.

White cotton bolls glittered in the sunlight, like a motionless snowfield.

The Thunder Emperor bent at the waist, picking cotton by the handful, his movements far more practiced than they had been on the first day. His hands were covered in calluses and splits, and bits of cotton lint that would not wash away were wedged beneath his fingernails. He no longer roared, no longer raged, not even thought anymore. He only bent down, picked cotton, dropped it into the basket on his back, then bent down again.

"Ten kilograms per person per day. Fail to meet the quota, and you don't eat." The old angel's voice still echoed beside his ears, but it no longer sounded so grating.

Habit truly was a frightening thing.

In the ridge beside him, the Demon of a Thousand Tentacles was also picking cotton. His movements were even more practiced than the Thunder Emperor's, and he was faster too. This monster once made up of countless tentacles now used ten fingers to do the most delicate work, picking every cotton boll cleanly without taking a single withered leaf.

"How much have you got today?" the Thunder Emperor asked.

The Demon of a Thousand Tentacles did not even lift his head. "Eight kilograms. You?"

"Seven and a half."

"Then you'd better pick up the pace. The sun's about to set."

The Thunder Emperor sighed and sped up his hands. The sun was indeed about to set, and the cotton fields had been dyed gold.

In the distance, several prisoners in the same gray uniforms were also busy in the fields. No one spoke. There was only the rustle of cotton being picked, and the occasional sigh.

The rest bell rang.

The