A Demon's Gob of Spit

The "numb" state did not last long.

The icy stone floor seeped through the thin prison guard uniform, threading cold into Xu Qian's bones and clearing his muddled mind a little.

Sitting here and blaming fate was useless. It would only get him frozen to death or hauled off as an example of someone slacking on the job.

He struggled to his feet, dusted off his backside, and once again put on that slightly timid, obedient expression he had honed in his previous life's workplace. Since he could not find a way back for now, nor see any hope of escape, then first and foremost, he had to... survive here.

Like Old Wang, like Zhou Kang, like those numb prison guards—survive first.

"Awake?" Old Wang had somehow appeared beside him. Still wearing that expressionless face, he handed over half a black steamed bun. "Eat something. This afternoon, we still have to clear the filth around Block B."

Xu Qian looked at the bun, hard as stone and stained with some unidentified grime. His stomach churned, but he still accepted it and said softly, "Thank you, Uncle Wang."

He nibbled at it bit by bit. It tasted like chewing wax, yet he forced himself to swallow. This was energy he needed to survive.

The afternoon work was equally revolting. They pushed carts of excrement reeking to high heaven and cleared the waste from designated areas. Several prison guards working alongside him grumbled and cursed, their movements rough and careless. Xu Qian followed silently, trying his best to adapt to a job that challenged the limits of human smell.

He watched the others, learning how to push the heavy carts with less effort, how to avoid arms suddenly reaching out from certain cells to claw at him, and how to turn a deaf ear to unbearable curses.

By the end of the day, Xu Qian was exhausted to the point of falling apart, both his mind and body enduring immense torment. Yet when he dragged his utterly weary body back to that frigid dormitory, his heart was strangely calmer.

The fear was still there, but it had been somewhat diluted by the terrifying force known as "habit."

On the second day, things seemed to improve a little. Perhaps Zhou Kang saw that he was fairly obedient and did not assign him filthy work like clearing waste. Instead, he told him to accompany him on cell inspections.

"Kid, stay close. Watch more, listen more, talk less." A ring of heavy keys hung from Zhou Kang's waist, clinking as he walked. He glanced at Xu Qian. "I'll show you the way and introduce you to some people. Don't go offending someone you shouldn't in the future, then die without even knowing how you died."

"Yes, Captain Zhou." Xu Qian answered hurriedly, carefully following half a step behind Zhou Kang.

The inspection began in Zone D. Zhou Kang was plainly familiar with every inch of the place. He broadly knew who was held in each cell, what they had done, and what kind of temper they had. Every so often, he would quietly offer Xu Qian a few pointers.

"That one's a thief. Sticky fingers, but timid. No problem."

"The one inside killed someone over gambling debts. Full of viciousness. Keep your distance."

"Oh, that cell is empty. An old fellow just died of illness a few days ago. They haven't had time to fill it."

Xu Qian listened carefully, trying to match this information with the fragments of memory in his mind and what he had seen yesterday. This was an important way for him to understand this world and his own situation.

After passing through Zone D and crossing a heavy iron gate guarded by sentries, the environment changed abruptly.

This was Block C.

The air was still foul, but the stench of blood and a certain... beast-like musk was much stronger. There were more torches lining the corridor, yet the light somehow seemed dimmer, because the stone walls here were darker, as though they could swallow light. The cells were no longer simple iron bars, but heavy iron doors with observation windows.

The oppressive feeling was even stronger.

Zhou Kang's expression also became noticeably more solemn. He slowed his pace, his eyes vigilantly sweeping across every iron door.

"Most of those held in Block C are ranked Martial Artists, or... some things that aren't quite right." Zhou Kang lowered his voice. "Keep your eyes sharp, your ears pricked. If anything feels wrong, retreat immediately and call for help!"

Xu Qian's heart rose to his throat. He nodded repeatedly, feeling cold sweat begin to bead across his back again.

They slowly made their way down the corridor. Every so often, Zhou Kang would open the small window in a door and take a glance inside to confirm the prisoner's condition.

Most of the time, there was only deathly silence, or the sound of heavy breathing.

Until they reached a seemingly ordinary cell in the middle of Block C.

As before, Zhou Kang took out a key, inserted it into the lock, and prepared to open the observation window.

The instant the faint click of the latch springing open sounded—

ROAR!!!

A howl that was utterly inhuman, filled with brutality and madness, suddenly exploded from behind the door! Like thunder erupting from level ground, it made Xu Qian's eardrums buzz!

Immediately after, an immense force slammed into the heavy iron door from within, producing a deafening BANG! Even dust on the doorframe came raining down!

Zhou Kang reacted with incredible speed. He instantly stepped back, his waist saber already half drawn, and barked, "Beast! Behave yourself!"

Xu Qian, however, was scared out of his wits by the sudden change. Instinctively, he staggered back several steps, only managing to steady himself when his back struck the cold, damp stone wall. His heart felt as though it were about to leap out of his throat.