Lin Fan followed the mutant called Three-Eyes through the darkness for a long while. From their conversation, he learned what kind of life these human slaves, suffering in Commorragh's lowest districts, led.
"Everyone here is a runaway. The only difference is where they escaped from. Some escaped from slave ships, so they only have flesh wounds and still more or less look like whole people. Others escaped from the Haemonculi's laboratories, factories, and gardens. That's why, like me, their bodies are covered in signs of modification."
Three-Eyes pointed to the large eye on his forehead. "That kind of torment is horrifying. Right in front of you, they use neurotoxins to heighten every sense in your body, forcing you to endure unceasing pain. You can't even die..."
"The Haemonculi throw the defective goods they've grown tired of playing with to scavengers or hunting hounds, or send them to factories to be made into torture devices, human livestock, and such... By the time I escaped, they'd come up with some new tricks too. Living furniture and the like..."
Three-Eyes padded silently across the ground like a ghost. As Lin Fan listened to his story, he sympathized deeply with these people's plight, but he did not feel particularly nauseated or sickened. All he could say was that the things broadcast on their television stations had been far too intense, greatly raising his tolerance.
I could probably watch someone dismember a corpse while calmly eating an undercooked steak.
Lin Fan thought pessimistically, saddened by how hardened his heart had become. "You speak quite fluently, and your diction is standard. Even the way you move your hands is Astra Militarum training. Did someone train you, or are you captured Astra Militarum soldiers?"
At that, shame appeared on Three-Eyes's face. "I'm Astra Militarum from Lorn... These