Hobbit man was in an office. Using his bug,he was able to discern several things about him. One, Hobbit's name was Alec. Two, he ran a massive slaving ring. Three, any slaves with potential he could brand using one of his skills, making them mindlessly loyal servants.
'What a cliché power.' Salem thought, amused. 'Good thing I'm leaving before I'm going to see him again. I hope he steps on a Lego.'
Switching to Cole, he saw Cole touring a massive warehouse with people lined up like cattle. Each person was manacled wrist-to-ankle forcing them to hunch over to one side, painfully. Their wrists and ankles beneath the iron shackles were bloody and raw. "How many injured have come in?" Cole asked the person walking next to him.
"We've collected 175 injured. 150 are female and ready to be broken." When he said 'broken' he had a perverse grin on his face; as if he enjoyed 'breaking' them.
"Good, good. You may break 15 of them, personally. I will take...Hmm I'll take 30. As for the rest, well, we have yet to pay our men, don't we?" Cole's goblin-like face now had the expression of a goblin ready to feast upon the flesh of an unwary adventurer.
'What a sick, sick f**k.' Salem thought. 'And God damn it, now I feel obligated to help them. F**k.' Salem felt torn, then. Torn between his childish fantasies of being a knight in shining armour, helping the weak, and saving himself, ensuring his survival.
Deciding to attempt to sleep, he stopped using Eyes of the Machinist and closed his eyes.
All through the night, Salem could not sleep. His mind kept coming up with images of the dead-eyed slaves that Alec kept, and the prisoners thst Cole kept like cattle. It was early morning when Salem finally dropped off into an uneasy sleep.