In a service area enclosed by barbed wire and filled with a heavy amount of dust and ash, people were laboring.
Most of them were gaunt, their bodies adorned with circular metal objects.
In their eyes, there was no longing for tomorrow, only the deathly stillness of dust; they cleaned the ground, carried bricks and tiles, repaired machines, worked on assembly lines... They were like mechanical gears, completely stripped of the will to be "human".
A portly man with the designation [MST (Decision-making Personality)] emblazoned across his chest was rubbing his hands together, smiling broadly at Ming'an, who was seated in a wheelchair beside him.
"—Doctor, as you can see, this batch is working in the environment for the modified laborers of M03. They all possess inferior personalities, and their emotional monitoring is often unstable," the portly merchant said with a grin.
The portly man's name was Wang Dongsheng, an MST who had invested in this containment area.
