"Ding ding ding," the sound rang out, and the noisy machinery came to a halt. The numb workers looked up at the wall clock in confusion, only to realize that it wasn't yet time to clock out.
Seeing the scene before him, the face of the nearby workshop director instantly broke into a cold sweat. This was an important figure from the Outer Islands; if he were to be frightened here, the director's job would be completely finished.
Hearing the cries of children from underneath the machines, Charles knelt down on one knee to peer below.
Underneath the gears large and small, more than a dozen pairs of eyes blinked back in panic.
The accompanying workshop director hurriedly knelt on both legs and yelled towards the children underneath the machinery, "Get out of there! Who the hell did this?!"
Quickly, a child in tattered clothes emerged, clutching his severed hand, trembling all over—whether from fear or pain, it was hard to say.
