Though he had expected it, when he heard that the Blood Moon Judgment really was a death sentence, Ash's heart still skipped a beat.
Deep down, he had clung to a few fantasies. Maybe the people here could tell he was not the heretic leader. Maybe he still had to go through a long trial process. Maybe he could get a two-year suspended sentence...
That fantasy had peaked after entering Prison, because Ash could not understand how Death Row Inmates could possibly get rooms with private bathrooms.
How could Death Row Inmates move freely around Prison?
How could Death Row Inmates receive so many preferential treatments from Prison?
Lang Na's words completely shattered all his childish hopes—precisely because they were going to die, Prison treated them so well.
"Prison keeps us penned up just so we can die more miserably?" Ash said with difficulty. "Isn't that a waste of resources?"
"Would you complain that fireworks were not dazzling enough when they exploded?" Lang Na smiled. "I'm surprised. You really don't know much about the Blood Moon Judgment—it's a live broadcast program in every city. At eight o'clock on the nights of the first and fifteenth of every month, most citizens stay home, turn on their Light Screens, and watch every sinner's final moments together. Its ratings are close to 70%."
"By the way, compared to the advertising revenue brought in by Blood Moon Judgment, the cost of keeping us in Prison is practically negligible."
Watching executions was actually a popular program in this world...
Ash tugged at the corner of his mouth. "This is absurd. How can 70% of people watch entertainment shows at eight in the evening? Don't they have overtime to work? Their workloads clearly aren't saturated enough..."
Lang Na was not surprised by Ash's impotent fury in the slightest.
He had seen too many Death Row Inmates make fools of themselves as the Blood Moon Judgment drew near. Some railed against the social system, while others cursed the ignorance of the masses. Stay in this Prison long enough, and you would naturally see everything.
"But if you want to escape the Blood Moon Judgment, it's not impossible."
Ash immediately perked up. "What's the way?"
Lang Na did not toy with him and spoke bluntly. "Although one person must die in every Blood Moon Judgment, eight people are sent there, and those eight spots are not fixed. They are ranked according to Contribution Points."
"Every death row inmate starts with 50 Contribution Points, and 10 points are deducted every month. But it doesn't matter if they drop to zero. Prison will not do anything to a death row inmate because of it."
"However, the higher your Contribution Points, the later your position in the Judgment Sequence. Those with lower Contribution Points are placed earlier in the Judgment Sequence. In theory, the first eight people in the sequence are the participants in the Blood Moon Judgment."
"There are many ways to earn Contribution Points. The simplest is to create value. Before entering Prison, Memory Weavers already extracted all our memories, so our information is worthless. But we still have many ways to make contributions:
Some people came in for dereliction of duty and embezzlement. They can propose institutional reforms to reduce the chances of later officials committing dereliction and embezzlement.
Some came in for illegal experiments. They can continue conducting legal experiments and writing papers in Prison.
Some possess all kinds of talents. There are even people whose books sell extremely well in Prison, which naturally counts as creating value."
"But more people in this Prison came in because of murder, and they have no other particular talents for creating value—murderous maniacs like me, for example."
Lang Na pointed at Ash. "And you."
"So how do people like us obtain Contribution Points? The Deathmatch Club is our answer."
Ash realized something. "You said participating in deathmatches came at a cost..."
"Besides death and pain, the greatest cost of a deathmatch is the transfer of Contribution Points," Lang Na said. "In every deathmatch, both sides must stake a certain amount of Contribution Points. The winner escapes the Blood Moon, while the loser accepts Judgment."
"If the Blood Moon Judgment is the end of a dead road, then the Deathmatch Club is the sea of blood lining that road—nearly every death row inmate eventually participates in deathmatches, gambling away their last Contribution Point and bleeding out their last drop of blood before entering the live broadcast in the most despair-filled state possible."
"This is how we make contributions—eliminate the weak and preserve our fighting spirit!"
"That is also why Prison allows the Deathmatch Club to exist." Lang Na's voice was as calm as if he were discussing someone else's affairs. "Before taking the stage, actors need makeup."
Actors needed makeup, or the audience would not want to watch.
Even though he had never watched the Blood Moon Judgment, Ash understood what Lang Na meant.
Just as mobile games gave their characters exquisite Character Portraits, so-called deathmatches were the process of turning Death Row Inmates into Character Portraits: gambling, fighting, despair, fear, pain... Nothing stirred a person's fighting spirit more than a battle fought with one's life on the line.
After a death row inmate suffered repeated losses in deathmatches, becoming hysterical from pain and crazed with despair from fear, he became a "main course" fit to be served. What the audience saw then was a "beast" brimming with fighting spirit, battle intent, despair, and fear.
Compared to a numb, decayed, sluggish "person," naturally a "beast" that seemed to dare resist was more entertaining to kill.
This was an Open Conspiracy, an Open Conspiracy Death Row Inmates could not refuse.
Not only would the losers become the products Prison needed and fetch a "good price" in the live broadcast, but the winners were merely drinking poison to quench their thirst. One day, they too would appear in the live broadcast and walk the same path to ruin.
From the very beginning, Death Row Inmates had only one ending: Prison would squeeze every last bit of value out of them, then they would die. The Dormitories with private bathrooms, the good food, the comprehensive facilities—they were all merely meant to fatten them up.
The so-called Judgment Sequence was really just a mechanism of internal competition. Everyone was playing a zero-sum game. Either you went to accept Judgment, or I was sentenced to death.
But it was only fair, really. Who told them to break the law and become Death Row Inmates?
And if a death row inmate did not want to be exploited, they could simply lie flat and wait to die. Only those who wanted to live would start competing.
If Ash had been outside Prison, he definitely would have applauded this system while watching the spectacle from the sidelines.
Unfortunately, it was bad enough that Hiss had become a heretic leader. He had to be such a weak heretic leader too, dragging Ash into Prison and leaving him no choice but to find another way to survive.
"After hearing all this, do you still want to join the Deathmatch Club?"
"Of course!"
Lang Na was not surprised. He finished his milk and burped. "Then come with me. If we're lucky, we might see a fresh, steaming corpse if we go now."
"People are deathmatching this early in the morning?" Ash asked curiously.
"Although deathmatches require Contribution Points to be staked, you do not need to wager many points from the beginning. The first match only requires one Contribution Point, and every subsequent deathmatch must stake one more point than the last. Two points for the second match, three points for the third, and so on."
"Though the stakes become considerable when accumulated gradually, even if you lose all of the first five matches, you still have a chance to turn things around. So everyone tries to use the first five deathmatches to figure out others' strengths and weaknesses and judge their own standing in Prison."
"Therefore, deathmatches happen quite frequently. One a day is perfectly normal. There are only a few days left until the fifteenth, so those people later in the sequence will definitely want to escape Judgment through deathmatches. I reckon the blood trace on the Deathmatch Arena won't dry these next few days."
"Come to think of it, do you want to buy meat?"
Ash blinked. "Meat? What meat?"
"Meat that falls onto the arena. Once it falls there, it belongs to Prison. We can buy that meat back from Prison."
Lang Na turned to glance at Ash, revealing two rows of pale, neat teeth. "If you're lucky, you can buy thigh meat. Whether you make sashimi or cook it, it tastes excellent. I highly recommend it."
Before you continue