Death Row Prisoners

The carriage was packed tight, reeking of men's sweat. A group of soldiers sat casually on the floor, while others sprawled over several large crates of military supplies. Zhang Tie sat quietly beside a few crates that clearly held weapons. Watching the ill-intentioned looks directed his way, Zhang Tie frowned slightly.

When they had entered, these fellows had all behaved themselves, looking rather convincing. Only now did Zhang Tie realize that the air about them was nothing like that of soldiers.

The air inside the carriage was stuffy and hot. Once the train started moving, several men stripped off their uniforms, revealing vast tattoos of ghosts and Magic Beasts across their bodies. Zhang Tie knew that some units in the Blakerson Human Corridor had standardized tattoos, usually symbols of a unit's honor and strength. But the tattoos on these men were each wildly individual, with scarcely two alike. They clearly had not been inked in the army.

At some point, the people originally seated around Zhang Tie quietly rose and moved away. The atmosphere in the carriage gradually changed. Those who had been chatting and whispering fell silent. Everyone watched Zhang Tie. Then several burly men strode toward him with hostile faces.

As the men approached, Zhang Tie merely lifted his eyelids for one glance, then remained seated, continuing to practice his Abacus Mental Calculation without even making a move to stand.

"Kid, I hear you're a deserter?" one man said loudly as he stopped before Zhang Tie.

"No. I was merely passing through and got mistaken for a deserter. I happened to want to take a look at the war zone where they're fighting the Devil Race, so I caught a ride in here," Zhang Tie replied calmly.

"Ha... ha..." The man burst into laughter, as if Zhang Tie