The clouds burned like fire as the sun set in the west.
Within the quarry, the ceaseless roaring had finally stopped.
Even the Cultivators who operated the giant Iron Armor Puppets seemed to work from sunrise to sunset, just like Chu Mu and the others who had yet to begin their Immortal Path.
After turning in the ore from his basket, Chu Mu followed the stream of people heading out of the quarry.
Like him, quite a few other miners also spent their nights on the outskirts of the mountain.
Shacks of all kinds were built throughout the mountainside, each one spaced far apart from the next. Clearly, the miners were all wary of one another.
In fact, this wariness was far from baseless.
Over the past few months, Chu Mu had heard news of people being murdered on more than one occasion.
A month of hard labor earned eight Broken Spirits. Killing one person could potentially net several months' worth of another's earnings.
