A factory?
Chen Yu's body wobbled slightly as he mulled the word over in his mind.
It sounded so enormous, so cold—completely out of place in this swamp, which teemed with primitive, raw life. It was like trying to fit iron boots on a frog in a mud puddle.
But was it really... an exaggeration?
He led Xiaohua out of the Tree Hall and stood on the city wall, looking out at the swamp as the sun emerged after the rain. Warm sunlight spilled down, illuminating the puddles and gnarled tree roots.
Every patch of light was crammed with glistening green Slimes.
They were like little mushrooms sprouting wildly after a rain, jostling against each other. They squirmed slowly, absorbing the warmth of the sun, covering the branches, the stones, his entire domain.
The sight was stunning enough on the surface.
But deep within the Underground City, in the dark corridors, damp corners, and even under the faint glow of Magic Crystals, crowded even more Slimes of every color.
