All Orphans

Broken Lake Prison Dining Hall.

Perhaps because he arrived particularly early today, Ash found the dining hall packed with prisoners eating breakfast. A closer observation opened his eyes: besides humans, orcs, and goblins, there were many other species in the prison—some crawling on the ground, some with two horns, some with four arms...

Ash even spotted a female with hooves and furry ears who was dressed quite provocatively, though he had no idea what species she was. This couldn't help but pique his interest and spark strange fantasies regarding the healthcare industry of this world.

He wasn't a furry fan, but...

"Are you here for food?"

The soul-piercing question from the Auntie at the counter pulled Ash's gaze back.

Ash randomly ordered a few items to fill his stomach, then noticed some peculiar food at the window labeled "Limit one per person," which looked particularly tempting.

"Auntie, what is this?"

"Ace Seafood Lala Fat, seasonal delicacy, very limited supply," the Auntie said. "If you'd come any later, it would be gone."

"Alright, give me..."

"Give me five!"

A muffled, booming shout from beside him interrupted Ash. He turned his head and saw a Green Orc ordering food. Upon hearing the demand, the Auntie took all the remaining portions of Ace Seafood Lala Fat and dumped them into the orc's massive basin.

"Huh? What? Why does it get five?"

Ash was dumbfounded.

"It's an orc," the Auntie said, her tone implying it was only natural.

"Why can an orc have five?"

"Orcs are just allowed to have five. It's always been this way."

"If it takes five, then I won't have any to eat! How can you do this—"

Ash's words suddenly choked in his throat, unable to come out. A light screen popped up, and a string of red warnings flooded his vision:

Warning: You are attempting to make discriminatory remarks! This is a prohibited act! In the Blood Moon Country, racial equality is the primary principle! Please be advised!

Me saying an orc eats too much counts as racial discrimination!?

Ash gloomily took his tray to find a seat. He found the place packed everywhere, and after finally finding an empty spot, he realized a blue-skinned monster with a massive backside was sitting next to it. It looked even more ferocious than the orc and was taking up two seats.

In his past life, Ash would have turned around and left, but this was Broken Lake Prison; the other party couldn't use force against him, so Ash marched over with bravado.

"Hey, you're taking up two seats, move over."

The blue-skinned monster, currently shoveling food into its mouth with its hands, turned to look at him, then lowered its head to continue eating.

"Me Ogre."

"Oh, and? Even if you're an ogre, you can't take up two seats—"

Warning: You are attempting to make discriminatory remarks! This is a prohibited act! In the Blood Moon Country, racial equality is the primary principle! Please be advised!

Saying your butt takes up two seats counts as racial discrimination too?

Ash wanted to curse, but he couldn't, because the words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to flip his tray over, but he couldn't, because his hands were frozen.

Under the control of the chip at the base of their necks, every prisoner was the most loyal follower of the law. They possessed maximum freedom as long as they didn't violate any laws or morals, but the moment they touched that boundary—even with a single word or a glance—invisible shackles would bind them tight.

Suddenly, his shoulder was tapped. A burly man nearby picked up his tray and stood up, signaling for Ash to take the seat.

Ash thanked him and realized the man looked familiar; he seemed to have seen him at the Deathmatch Club yesterday.

"Desmond," he introduced himself, glancing with disgust at the ogre and goblin at the table. "I'm heading to the Deathmatch Club. If you get the chance, come have a match with me."

Hearing they were from the Deathmatch Club, others looked up and shifted their seats a little further away. Ash sat down, listening to the ogre's tractor-like chewing sounds and watching the goblin across from him squatting on its chair while dropping crumbs everywhere. A strong desire to escape surged from within his heart.

Unlike a prison break—which he wanted because he knew he would die if he stayed—this desire to escape stemmed from his loathing of the environment.

The last time he felt this way was when he encountered an idiot boss during his internship. If it were an idiot colleague, he could fight back or play tricks; but if it were an idiot boss, he had no choice but to endure, unable to even offer verbal resistance.

He could suffer grievances and endure hardships, because patience was for a future where he wouldn't have to endure.

But if the boss was an idiot, it meant he would have to endure forever. Why work then? Overtime is overtime everywhere; he might as well say goodbye, the next boss would be better.

The current situation was far worse than an idiot boss—the entire environment was idiotic.

You are clearly furious, but you can't say anything; you want to resist, but your body won't listen to you.

Ash suddenly had a moment of realization.

He had thought Broken Lake Prison was actually treating its prisoners well.

But in reality, locking such a group of people—hated by gods and ghosts—together, forbidding them from taking any overstepping actions, and forcing them to scramble to create value for the prison just to avoid the Blood Moon Judgment, was actually a form of mental lingchi.

Extinguish their anger.

Shatter their hope.

Eliminate their courage.

Destroy their backbone.

Let the seeds of despair, frustration, regret, and fear take root and sprout within them until they are withered, broken, and driven to madness, appearing at the Blood Moon Judgment as "perfect perpetrators" to meet their deservedly tragic ends.

Ash could finally understand why there were so many people in the Deathmatch Club.

That place was the only spot where death row inmates could vent, the only dog hole in this prison where one could briefly breathe a breath of fresh air.

It was equivalent to a garbage dump.

The funny thing was, someone like Ash who couldn't stand the environment was the real trash, while the death row inmates nearby who could remain at ease were the model prisoners of this jail.

After finishing his meal quickly, Ash hurried to where the trash belonged.

There were no deathmatches currently underway in the Deathmatch Club; the interior was bright, and from afar, Ash saw Lang Na lying in his boyfriend's arms.

He didn't know if it was an illusion, but Ash felt as though his boyfriend looked a bit thinner than yesterday.

No way, was Lang Na actually the type to drain others dry?

"Ash." Lang Na raised a hand in greeting. "You're here early. Just finished breakfast? Want to walk it off? Valkas hasn't arrived yet anyway."

Ash nodded and found a random spot to sit down, and someone immediately sat down beside him.

"Xilin Dor."

"Who?"

Ash looked at Igula beside him, his eyes filled with vigilance.

Igula raised his eyebrows. "You don't need to be nervous. I have no interest in challenging you to a deathmatch—I won't participate in any fight I'm not sure of, nor will I waste time on worthless things like face. I accept my loss and am convinced by the result."

"Someone like you who plays with tactics has a dirty heart; I can't trust you."

"Then let's skip the pointless prelude and go straight to the oldest interaction between humans—"

"Mating?"

"Trading, trading!" Igula enunciated so clearly it was as if he wanted to bite the words until they bled. "You answer one question of mine, and I answer one of yours."

"I don't have any questions I want to ask you."

"Really? Do you want to know why that Elf, Valkas, would take the initiative to challenge you?"

Elf?

Ash felt a surge of surprise, but it didn't show on his face.

"Fine, I'm a little curious, but how do I know you won't lie?"

"I don't know if you'll lie to me either," Igula laughed. "We're both taking the same risk."

"Then what's the point of this trade?"

"Because I'm confident I can judge whether you're lying, and even if you do, I can guess the truth. Likewise, you can—"

"I can't." Ash shook his head. "I haven't read many books; you'll definitely trick me."

Igula was choked up, seemingly seeing someone with such self-awareness for the first time.

After a moment of silence, he said helplessly, "Then I'll just tell you the information directly. You judge whether it has value, and if it does, you answer my question. How about that?"

His tone was as aggrieved as a Sichuanese person forced to agree to a split-pot hotpot... Ash thought about it, feeling that he shouldn't be able to suffer a loss or get scammed, so he nodded.

"Valkas Ur was formerly a research scholar at Kaimeng Comprehensive University. He was imprisoned for suspected theft of important patented technology, unauthorized child-rearing, and the murder of a colleague. Because of his status as an Elf, he is the only prisoner who didn't participate in the Blood Moon Judgment during his first month of incarceration. He has been in prison for five years and hasn't participated in a single Blood Moon Judgment."

Ash let out an "ah." He remembered Lang Na saying that every death row inmate had to participate in their first Blood Moon Judgment. In the prison, this was known as "going through the motions." Only by passing it did one earn the qualification to create value in Broken Lake Prison; failing it meant one only had the qualification to become fertilizer.

"Why was he able to escape the Blood Moon Judgment? Because he's an Elf? Isn't Racial Equality the primary principle of the Blood Moon Country?"

"Racial Equality is, of course, the primary principle."

A mysterious, unfathomable smile hung on Igula's face.

"But some races are more equal than others."

As expected, equality was a horizon—it existed everywhere, but could never be reached anywhere... Ash didn't have much to lament about this; after all, he hadn't been here long and didn't know much about how "Racial Equality" was implemented here.

"Then why did he challenge me?"

"That goes back to the crimes he committed. Although stealing patented technology and murdering a colleague are serious crimes, they wouldn't have been enough to send him to Broken Lake Prison. The crime that truly ignited the fury of the higher-ups was that he privately raised a child!"

Ash was completely bewildered.

What the hell?

"Why is privately raising a child the most serious crime?"

"Because it's forbidden. No one is allowed to privately raise children."

Ash grew more and more confused.

"No one raises children? Then you... how did we grow up?"

"We all grew up in Nurturing Homes," Igula frowned tightly. "Socialized Parenting is the basic national policy of the Blood Moon Country. Are you looking for trouble by asking such questions?"

Socialized Parenting?

Ash tried his best to understand this unfamiliar term. "You mean, we were all raised by the state, and everyone is..."

He wanted to say "an orphan without parents," but the words stuck in his throat.

This time, it wasn't the chip stopping him.

It was that Ash simply couldn't find the words.

He desperately rummaged through Hiss's mind, only to discover that words like "father" or "mother" did not exist in Hiss's native vocabulary! The only term that could even remotely relate was "guardian."

There was no evidence more powerful than this.

The very absence of the words "parents" was proof enough that these two roles simply did not exist within the social structure of the Blood Moon Country!

Wait, orphans raised through Socialized Parenting, neck chips that could control everyone's speech and actions...

Ash suddenly felt a flicker of fear toward the world outside the prison.

Just what kind of world have I transmigrated into!