No, it's too dangerous.

Monika does not at first answer, weighing her options. Recalling Orterres lasts words about “raping her ass if he ever saw her again” settles the dilemma.

“Of course not.” Monika reengages eye contact with the nerdy clerk. “That would be foolish, but I still have to get into the city. So no passes and only native citizens can enter, but didn't you mention something about 'their slaves?'”

“Yes, we Irylians practice slavery, but it isn't what you think.” The clerk takes a defensive and lecture like tone. “Our slavery is not based on class or generation, but on justice. Only criminals that can't pay a fine are enslaved and then only for a set period of time depending on their crime.”

“But I haven't seen any slaves since I arrived in the Undercity.” Monika inquires.

“Our laws are draconian enough that hardly any break them. Besides few Irylians can afford slaves, save the very wealthy in the Overcity. Most criminals end up serving the Undercity doing hard manual labor in the town's fields, roads and mines. Those few with noteworthy characteristics; beauty, strength or smarts; are sold at auction to the highest bidder. All the proceeds go to the city, unless the victim invokes the “pound of flesh.”

“Pound of flesh?” The redhead's eyebrow raises, “What's that?”

The clerk takes a drink. “Any person harmed by a criminal can call for a 'pound of flesh,' which allows the victim to get a portion of the slave's sale price or first chance to buy the slave at a lower, set price.”

“Barbaric.” Monika mutters as she ponders the evils before her.