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Chapter 813: How Is This Enemy More Decent Than Our Own Brothers?
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... "Did none of you have breakfast?!"
The overseer’s crude yelling and the crack of a whip echoed across the port.
The laborers, carrying boxes, shuffled back and forth tirelessly between the cargo ship’s deck and the dock warehouse, like upright-walking donkeys.
Forget about eight silver coins an hour, even taking a break here is a luxury; if you want a bathroom break or a sip of water, you have to plead with the foreman.
This is West Sail Port.
Or as the p ...
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