The man had a large dark red birthmark around his left eye that nearly covered half of his face, making it quite conspicuous.
"We're here to see Lieutenant Mason," Bard asked the man, "Is Lieutenant Mason the person in charge here?"
The man answered listlessly, "The lieutenant took some people to oversee the mowing. Please wait here, gentlemen, I will find someone to call the lieutenant back."
Speaking with a thick Parlatu accent, he shouted loudly, and a short man by the side of the log cabin responded before running toward a dirt slope not too far away.
"What's your role here?" Andre asked the man, furrowing his brows as he stared.
"Me?" The other man chuckled, "Well, to answer you, sir, I'm the one in charge of watching over the others."
Winters sensed something amiss, "Wait, is this a prison?"
"Of course not, sir," the bored guard answered without even lifting his eyelids, "This is a ranch, a labor farm."
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