The snow was ferocious.
The concrete walls in the ruins were covered by a layer of ice and the dangling steel beams were frozen into crystalline rods.
Below, ragged figures strolled. There was an unhealthy color on their faces, and their expressions were frozen numb. The heavy loads on their backs crushed their spine and knees.
The person standing on the side was evidently the mutated human supervisor.
For slaves of mutated human, the only escape was to be picked at around 30 years of age through pure luck. From there, finish the breeding mission, immerse in the growth vial, and to be "reborn."
As for the people who were not so lucky, their fate was usually tragic…
