Lyon pushed the door open.
A not-too-long staircase was revealed, leading to a high platform with railings enclosed by iron doors on both sides.
When Angel reached the railing and looked down, his expression instantly froze.
People!
A dense crowd of people!
In the vast underground cellar, it was filled with people!
These people were clad in rags. From the unique patterns on the rags, one could infer that they were once the garments of servants.
Among them, some female servants could still be recognized by the hems of their maid dresses, but now, they were nearly naked, their pale flesh starkly eye-catching.
Yet even so, there was not a hint of charm.
For they were all emaciated, with just a thin layer of skin over their bones. At a glance, it was as if one had entered the dungeon of the most severe slave owner.
The stench, the horror, and the palpitations.
