Kaito was unceremoniously dragged through the dirt, the sound of his feet scraping against the rough ground a constant reminder of his new, humiliating reality. The guards gripped his arms tightly, and though he attempted to resist, his exhaustion and the weight of his situation quickly wore him down. He wasn’t in a place for protests anymore—his sarcastic charm wasn’t going to work here.

  As they walked, Kaito tried to take in his surroundings. The “farm” wasn’t exactly what he expected—at least, not the kind of farm he’d seen in textbooks or on vacation brochures. It was more like a blighted wasteland, with crops that appeared to have been forcibly grown rather than nurtured.

  The soil was dry, cracked, and the air smelled of something that could only be described as “unpleasant.” The workers? Well, they weren’t your usual farmhands. Various races—humans, strange, alien beings, and more—were bent over, harvesting crops that seemed to have sprouted unnaturally fast, like something straight out of a twisted horror story.

  Kaito's heart sank as he looked closer: these plants were still growing, their stems stretching up to the sky like they were being forced to thrive at an unnatural pace. And the workers? They were all bound by chains, moving without any sign of joy. It didn’t take long to realize that these people weren’t volunteers. They were slaves.

  Kaito’s jaw dropped when they arrived at a large patch of these strange crops. The guards roughly shoved him into the middle of the field, and one of them, a particularly large blue-skinned soldier, gave Kaito a swift kick to the backside.

  "Move it, newbie!" the soldier growled, his voice thick with disdain. "You’ve got work to do."

  Kaito staggered forward, rubbing his sore backside. "Ow, that wasn’t called for," he muttered under his breath, trying to regain his balance. “Seriously, I’m just one guy, and you need to kick me like I’m a football?”

  Another soldier sneered. “You’ll learn soon enough.” He gestured to the workers around them. “You’re going to harvest the crops. You’ll do this for the next eighteen hours. One meal for the whole day. And six hours of sleep. Got it?”

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  Kaito blinked in disbelief. "Wait—what? Eighteen hours of work? One meal a day? Six hours of sleep? This is the worst job description I’ve ever heard."

  He glanced at the slaves around him, who were all bent over, working like machines, harvesting the ever-growing plants without any hint of life left in their eyes.

  Kaito’s voice grew louder as his irritation mounted. “Wow, okay. Fifteen hours in a factory would be a luxury at this point! Seriously, I’d take a 9-to-5 job on Earth over this mess. At least I'd get some vacation days!”

  The guard who had kicked him raised an eyebrow. “You think this is bad? Wait until you start working.”

  “Great, just what I needed, a bonus round of pain,” Kaito grumbled under his breath. “This is it. This is my life now—endless labor, no food, and maybe I’ll be allowed to sleep if I’m lucky.”

  One of the slaves in the distance glanced up at Kaito. “It’s not so bad, just don’t think too much about it. You’ll get used to it.”

  “Used to it?” Kaito blinked in disbelief. “Are you serious? How does anyone get used to this? Is there like, a training seminar or something for this kind of stuff? Do I need to download an app for how to survive eternal misery?”

  The worker just shrugged, returning to their task. “You'll adjust. We all do. You don't have much choice, really.”

  "Yeah, yeah. So, what’s the deal with these plants?" Kaito asked, trying to distract himself from the utter absurdity of it all. "Are these like, genetically modified vegetables, or are they just radioactive weeds? Because I gotta say, they look more like something you'd find in a science fiction horror movie."

  "You’ll find out soon enough," the worker replied, barely acknowledging him. "Don’t question it. Just harvest."

  Kaito sighed. "Well, that's helpful," he muttered. “Anyway, where’s the lunch break?"

  The guard who had spoken earlier crossed his arms and scowled. "You get one meal after you're done working. And don't expect any breaks. You're here to work, not to chat."

  Kaito threw his arms up in frustration. "One meal?! Well, I guess I won’t be gaining any muscle mass at this rate."

  The guards laughed coldly, not bothering to hide their amusement.

  As Kaito begrudgingly bent down to begin his work, the weight of the situation finally hit him. Eighteen hours of work. No breaks. No food until the end of the day.

  And when his six hours of sleep finally came, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest easy—not with this life awaiting him every day.

  “Alright,” Kaito muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his brow as he began to harvest the strange plants, “this is it. Escape plan starts at midnight. I’m outta here the second they let me sleep. There’s no way I’m sticking around for this nightmare.”

  As the hours dragged on, he kept his thoughts fixed on his escape plan. Sure, the idea of fleeing was risky, but what else was he supposed to do? He wasn’t about to let himself become a permanent resident of this miserable slave farm.

  “I’m getting out. There’s gotta be a way.”

  Kaito’s mind was already racing with potential escape routes. He just needed to survive long enough to find one.