Under the terms of the negotiation, all First Legion soldiers were free to move as they pleased.
The soldiers were also allowed to return home to visit their families, and they could choose whether to stay or leave. But for the vast majority, that choice meant nothing.
Aside from a few officers who were minor nobles themselves, everyone else had only one thought: hurry up and bring their families to New Kato to enjoy unlimited fresh water.
In less than two days, almost everyone had brought their families to the passage leading to the Underhive, and they were transported back to New Kato together.
But some people could not find their families.
Grot was one of them.
"What's wrong, brother?" Seeing Grot sitting blankly atop the bunker at the position, Grey immediately jumped up and sat beside him.
"I couldn't find my family." Grot's voice was low. "They lived in District Fourteen, but when I went there, I found nothing. Even my family's house was rusted and moldy. That proved they'd been gone for a long time..."
Grey knew Grot's family situation. He had an older brother and a younger sister.
Logically, both of Grot's relatives had the ability to protect themselves in the Hive City. No matter what, they should not have vanished.
Grey racked his brains for something to say to comfort Grot. "Maybe they ran into some trouble. Maybe they're wandering somewhere in the Underhive... I'm not very good with words. I just mean..."
"You brought your family to New Kato?" Grot asked.
"Yes." Grey nodded.
"Congratulations, brother."
"I..."
Grot grabbed Grey's hand and bumped shoulders with him, then fell silent and said nothing more.
A moment later, Klein walked over and called to Grey and Grot, "Come on. I'll take you two to have some fun in District One."
"Klein? I thought you weren't coming back." Grey was quite surprised. He had assumed that a noble like Klein would remain in the Upperhive.
After all, while New Kato in the Underhive was better than the Lowerhive, it still could not compare to the Upperhive.
"The idiots in my family think I've gone mad. They didn't want to come to the Underhive with me." Klein did not want to discuss the subject. "Come have some fun in District One. We've been fighting for almost a year. It's time to relax."
"District One? Isn't it full of gangs?" Grey knew exactly what District One was like. For civilians, it was a dangerous place.
District One was entirely controlled by gang and guild members. Forget civilians—an outright criminal who walked in would be stripped of everything useful on him.
"District One is dangerous to other people, but to rich people, it's paradise. I guarantee we'll receive VIP treatment." Klein smiled.
Grey shook his head and looked at Grot. He felt that comforting his friend was more important than having fun right now.
"Come with us." Klein looked at Grot as well and joked, "Maybe your family joined a gang. Wouldn't this be a perfect chance to find them?"
It was only a joke, but Grot felt it might actually be possible. His older brother was strong and good at fighting, so joining a gang would not have been strange.
Grot immediately jumped down from the bunker. After Grey jumped down as well, the two followed Klein toward District One.
It seemed the gangs were trying to curry favor with the First Legion. Even though Klein had not paid anything, the three still received a warm welcome. A woman whose body had been heavily modified with Prosthetic Body enhancements to give her a perfect figure served as their guide, taking them around District One.
It was a perfect night.
The three first went drinking, then ate Ant-Man meat, and were brought to meet many gang bosses. All of it was free.
Finally, the female guide brought them to the arena, where they entered an upper-level VIP room to watch the gladiatorial match.
"Each of you has a betting credit of ten thousand Throneys." The female guide held two metal tokens as she walked up to Grey. "This is the gift you deserve. Even if you lose your bet, you can still take ten thousand Throneys with you. If you win, you'll be able to take even more."
Even Klein was somewhat surprised to hear ten thousand Throneys. That amount was enough to feed and pay an entire regiment for a month.
"I want to bet..." Grot looked at the two metal tokens, then casually chose the gladiator name he thought sounded better. "I'm betting on Gravity Hammer."
"Then I'll bet on Gravity Hammer too."
"Me too."
Neither Grey nor Klein knew any of the gladiators here, so they both followed Grot's lead.
The female guide immediately turned around and entered their betting information into a machine.
Not long afterward, the match officially began.
Under multicolored lights, the first gladiator entered.
"Let us welcome the gladiator most likely to win..." An excited, frenzied voice rang out over the broadcast. "Ant, ant, ant, ant, ant... Ant-Man!"
Cheers and applause immediately filled the entire arena.
Amid the thunderous cheers, a burly man stepped out of a cage. His body had been heavily modified. He stood two meters tall, armor plates had even been implanted directly over his vital areas, and his arms had been turned into two long blades.
"Kill!" The gladiator named Ant-Man raised his arms and roared at the audience.
At his roar, the cheers and applause grew even fiercer.
"Now let us welcome the gladiator who is about to be sliced into countless pieces by Ant-Man." The broadcast rang out again. "Gravity Hammer!"
Another gladiator emerged from a doorway. Compared to Ant-Man, his appearance was far worse.
The left half of his body was muscular flesh, while the right half was metal. Both arms had been modified into industrial pincers. The enhancement technology was crude, so the workmanship was rough as well.
"That guy's a pit slave," Klein said.
"What's a pit slave?" Grey asked. "How come I've never heard of one?"
"You might not have heard of them, but Pit Slaves are very common..." Klein then began explaining what Pit Slaves were.
Simply put, certain guilds would arrange for someone to be saddled with an enormous debt. Naturally, that person could not repay it. No problem—they would be modified and sent into a factory as a slave.
That was what a pit slave was.
Their bodies were generally modified for industrial production. That was why the gladiator called Gravity Hammer had pincers for arms.
"Some Pit Slaves kill their overseers and escape, then make a living as gladiators in arenas until an opponent kills them," Klein said.
"I see." Grey suddenly understood. "That guy's had it rough."
Grot did not join their conversation.
Though he was too far from the arena to make out Gravity Hammer's face, Gravity Hammer's build and that half of flesh felt strangely familiar to him.
A senseless, inexplicable familiarity.