The Pacific Ocean, the largest ocean on Earth, is dotted with many small islands.
On an unnamed one among them.
It wasn't particularly large, covering just tens of thousands of hectares.
However, one could see that this little island was teeming with crops.
From a distance, countless individuals could be observed toiling in the fields, too many to count, looking much like slaves. Around the farms, people dressed like warlords stood guard with long spears in hand.
"Pick up the pace, you're moving too slow," shouted one of the warlord-looking figures, "if you don't finish weeding before sunset, you'll have no dinner tonight!"
The warlord-looking man roared.
Hearing the shout, those in the fields grew anxious.
Their garments were the plain clothes of peasants, and their skin tones varied—whites, yellows, and blacks—of all ages, from over fifty to just in their twenties.
