This must be the Bloody Arena spoken of by the Poisonous Widow.
Next, the perspective switches to the second insect.
The second insect gently flaps its wings, continuing to delve deeper along the damp corridor, eventually stopping within a spacious cabin.
Here, there was no bloody massacre, but another kind of suffocating oppression lingered—dozens of male and female slaves stood in several rows, their upper bodies bare, and hands and feet shackled, displayed like goods on metal racks.
Their eyes were hollow, bodies covered in bruises and whip marks, clearly accustomed to such inhuman treatment.
Several Star Thieves swaggered through the crowd, occasionally reaching out to pinch a slave's chin, rudely prying open their mouths to inspect teeth or to slap muscles to evaluate physical ability.
"This one's too skinny, can't withstand the ordeal."
"Tsk, this one's good, take them in and try it."
"Hahaha, I want this woman, tonight it's her!"
