"Is that you?!"
Nearly all the prisoners recognized the youth before them. Just a day ago, some of them had still called him "Boss Lin," obsequiously fetching his meals and handing him towels.
"You sickly brat, you think you can stop us too? Do you think you're still the boss here?!" one of the prisoners sneered. "If you don't want to die, get out of the way! Otherwise, don't blame me for chopping you into minced meat!"
"Why are you still wasting words on him? He's just a little brat, and he really thinks he's somebody! Kill him already!"
"Kill him!!"
The prisoners' footsteps paused for only a moment before they surged toward the gates—and toward Lin Qiye—even faster, their faces twisted with savagery and their murderous intent undisguised.
Lin Qiye remembered several of the loudest troublemakers clearly. Back at Abstinence Hall, they had been the most eager to flatter him. Now that they had changed their tune so quickly, Lin Qiye was not surprised in the least.
At the end of the day, these people were nothing but a pack of vile criminals. What they excelled at most was following the wind and kicking people when they were down. When you were strong, they naturally dared not entertain any thoughts about opposing you. They would tuck away their claws, pile on smiles, and serve you as though you were their own father. But once they regained the upper hand, they would reveal their vicious true faces.
From the very beginning, Lin Qiye had never taken these people seriously.
Amid the smoke and dust, Lin Qiye narrowed his eyes slightly. The brilliant gold in his left eye rapidly dimmed, replaced by an inky black. Beneath the gloomy sky, two utterly different colors—one gold and one black—appeared in his eye sockets