Seeing the expressions on the faces of his fellow inmates around him, it was clear they had not expected something like this to happen either.
He had not heard of any terrorist organization members being held here.
Obadiah quickly swept his gaze over the chaos around him, then without hesitation squeezed beneath the bed, curling into a ball like a frightened old cat.
The space beneath the bed was cramped, but for someone as thin as him, it provided just enough of a temporary refuge.
He had not considered taking the chance to escape. It was not because he lacked the desire to survive, but because he had more practical concerns.
This prison was heavily guarded. Breaking out was no easy matter.
He had seen those heavily armed Prison Guards with his own eyes. Their gazes were cold as blades, and they were highly trained, as though they could cut down any inmate attempting an escape at any moment.
Besides, the gunfire outside was intense. Clearly, a conflict of no small scale was underway.
With his old arms and legs, could he really outrun bullets through a hail of gunfire? Obadiah knew full well that running would only put him in even greater danger.
"Bang bang bang bang bang!!!"
The gunshots exploded over the prison like firecrackers, each blast shaking the inmates to their core.
The prison instantly descended into chaos. Inmates surged out of their cells, crowding before the bars and craning their necks to observe what was happening outside.
Their faces were filled with fear and longing—fear of the unknown threat, and longing for an opportunity to escape this cage.
The serious offenders were even more frantic.
Many of them were either death-row prisoners awaiting final judgment or criminals sentenced to hundreds of years, punishments practically equivalent to