There were an enormous number of slaves beneath Yeenoghu's City. At its peak, their numbers had even exceeded two hundred thousand. To Yeenoghu, these slaves were nothing more than expendable consumables. They set out from the Gathering Gate at the starting point, followed fixed routes, and returned to the Gathering Gate. Of those two hundred thousand slaves, fewer than one in ten survived. And those who did survive could hardly be called fortunate, because another round of torment and enslavement awaited them.
It was precisely this inhumane oppression that made nearly every slave want to escape this hellhole. Yet few truly acted on it, because this was the Abyss. Even if they escaped from Yeenoghu, they were still destined for a miserable fate.
It could be said that the moment they passed through the Gathering Gate and entered the Abyss, their tragic destinies had already been decided. Yet amid that misery, there was always some illusory hope that offered them a tiny measure of comfort in their darkest moments.
That hope was Unos's fleet.
A rumor had always circulated among the slaves: the great Captain Unos was a great liberator of slaves. He rescued slaves and led them into battle against demons. Once they accumulated enough merit, they would receive their final reward: returning home, returning to their families.
Anyone with even a little sense could tell that this was complete bullshit! Never mind whether Unos even had the ability to send them back—if he did, then why were these pioneers who liberated slaves still staying in the Abyss?
For the great feelings of the proletariat? Or for some lofty faith?
Bullshit!
This was the Abyss! The environment was harsh everywhere, and countless dangers surrounded them. If they could return home, who the hell would have time to stay in