All Orphans

Broken Lake Prison Dining Hall.

Perhaps because he had come especially early today, Ash found the entire dining hall packed with prisoners eating breakfast. A closer look was enough to open his eyes: besides humans, Orcs, and Goblins, the prison held many other species as well—ones that crawled on the ground, ones with two horns, ones with four arms...

Ash even spotted a particularly seductive, scantily dressed woman with hooves and fluffy ears. He had no idea what race she was. It gave him a keen interest in this world's healthcare industry and some curious fantasies.

He wasn't a furry, but...

"Are you getting food or not?"

Auntie's question from the depths of her soul pulled Ash's gaze back.

Ash casually ordered several dishes filling enough to satisfy his hunger. He noticed a peculiar food at the counter marked "One serving per person," and it looked especially tempting.

"Auntie, what's this?"

"Ace Seafood Lala Fat, a seasonal delicacy. The yield is especially low," Auntie said. "If you'd come any later, there wouldn't be any left."

"Okay, give me—"

"Give me five servings!"

A booming shout from beside him interrupted Ash. He turned and saw a Green Orc getting food. At its call, Auntie took all five remaining servings of Seafood Lala Fat and dumped them into its enormous food bowl.

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

Ash stared in disbelief.

"It's an Orc." Auntie spoke as though it were only natural.

"Why can an Orc get five servings?"

"Orcs get five servings. It's always been that way."

"If it takes five servings, then I don't get any. How can that be—"

Ash's words suddenly clogged in his throat. The Light Screen popped up, and a string of red warnings filled his vision:

Warning: You are attempting to make a racially discriminatory statement! This is prohibited! In Blood Moon Country, racial equality is the foremost principle! Please take note!

Saying Orcs ate too much counted as racial discrimination!?

Ash gloomily carried his tray around in search of a seat, only to find everywhere full. He finally found an empty spot, but discovered that beside it sat a blue-skinned monster with an especially huge ass. It looked even fiercer than the Orc and took up two seats all by itself.

In his previous life, Ash would definitely have turned around and left. But this was Broken Lake Prison. The other party couldn't lay a hand on him, so Ash marched over boldly.

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

The blue-skinned monster, which was eating with its hands, glanced at him before lowering its head and continuing to eat.

"Me Ogre."

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

Warning: You are attempting to make a racially discriminatory statement! This is prohibited! In Blood Moon Country, racial equality is the foremost principle! Please take note!

Saying its ass took up two seats counted as racial discrimination too?

Ash wanted to curse, but he couldn't get the words out because they were blocked in his throat. He wanted to dump his tray over the creature, but he couldn't; his hands had frozen stiff.

Under the control of the Neck Microchip, every prisoner was the law's most faithful follower. So long as they violated no laws or morals, they possessed the greatest freedom. But once they touched the boundaries of law and morality, even with a single word or look, invisible shackles would bind them tightly.

Suddenly, someone patted him on the shoulder. A burly man beside him picked up his tray and stood, gesturing for Ash to take his seat.

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

"Desmond." He introduced himself, casting a disgusted look at the Ogre and Goblin sharing his table. "I'm going to the Deathmatch Club first. Come have a match with me sometime."

Upon hearing they were from the Deathmatch Club, the others looked up at them and shifted their asses a little farther away. Ash sat down, listening to the Ogre's tractor-like chewing and watching the Goblin opposite him squat on its chair, scattering crumbs everywhere. A powerful urge to escape rose in his heart.

Unlike his escape from prison, which was because he knew he would die if he stayed, this urge to escape came from his hatred of this environment.

The last time he had felt this way was when he encountered an idiotic boss during his internship. If a colleague was an idiot, he could still fight back and pull a few tricks. But if his boss was an idiot, there was nothing he could do but endure it. He couldn't even resist with words.

He could suffer grievances and hardships, because endurance was for the sake of one day no longer needing to endure.

But if his boss was an idiot, that meant he would have to keep enduring forever. Then why keep working? Overtime was overtime anywhere. Better to say goodbye—his next boss would be better.

His current situation was far worse than having an idiotic boss—the entire environment was idiotic.

You were obviously furious, but you couldn't say anything; you wanted to resist, but your body wouldn't obey you.

Ash suddenly came to a realization.

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

But in truth, locking a group of Hated By Gods And Ghosts death row inmates together, forbidding any excessive actions between them, and making them scramble to create value for the prison in order to avoid Blood Moon Judgment was a form of spiritual lingchi.

Extinguish their anger.

Shatter their hope.

Destroy their courage.

Break their spine.

Let the seeds of despair, resentment, regret, fear, and more take root and sprout within them, until they withered away, went mad, and appeared in Blood Moon Judgment as "perfect perpetrators," where they would meet their deservedly miserable ends.

Ash could understand why the Deathmatch Club had so many people now.

It was the only place where death row inmates could vent, the only doghole in this prison where they could temporarily breathe some fresh air.

It was essentially a garbage collection station.

The amusing part was that people like Ash, who couldn't endure the environment, were the garbage. The death row inmates around him who could remain at ease were the prison's model prisoners.

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

No deathmatches were underway in the Deathmatch Club. The place was brightly lit, and Ash spotted Lang Na lying in her boyfriend's arms from afar.

He didn't know whether it was an illusion, but Ash felt that her boyfriend seemed a little thinner than yesterday.

No way, was Lang Na the kind who drained other people dry?

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

Ash nodded and casually found somewhere to sit. Someone immediately sat down beside him.

"Xilin Dor."

"Who?"

Ash looked toward Igula beside him, his eyes carrying some wariness.

Igula raised his brows. "Don't be nervous. I have no interest in inviting you to a deathmatch—I won't participate in any battle I can't win, nor will I waste time over something as worthless as pride. I accept my losses and admit defeat wholeheartedly."

"People like you who play tactics are rotten to the core. I don't trust you."

"Then let's discard the pointless preamble and proceed directly to humanity's oldest interaction—"

"Mating?"

"Trading, trading!" Igula enunciated so clearly it was as if he wanted to bite the words until they bled. "You answer one question for me, and I'll answer one for you."

"I don't have anything I want to ask you."

"Really? Don't you want to know why that Elf Valkas took the initiative to challenge you?"

An Elf?

Ash was somewhat surprised inside, but his face showed nothing.

"All right, I am a little curious. But how do I know you won't lie?"

"I don't know whether you'll lie to me either." Igula smiled. "We're taking the same risk."

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

"Because I'm confident I can tell whether you're lying. Even if you lie, I can still guess the truth. Likewise, you can—"

"I can't." Ash shook his head. "I haven't read much. You'll definitely trick me."

Igula choked on his words, seemingly seeing someone with such self-awareness for the first time.

After a moment of silence, he said helplessly, "Then I'll tell you the information directly. You decide whether it's valuable. If it is, answer my question. Is that good enough?"

That tone sounded as aggrieved as a Sichuanese agreeing to a yin-yang hot pot... Ash thought about it and decided he probably couldn't lose out or be cheated, so he nodded.

"Valkas Ur was once a research scholar at Kaimeng Comprehensive University. He was imprisoned for suspected theft of important patented technology, privately raising a child, and murdering a colleague. Because he is an Elf, he is the only criminal who did not participate in Blood Moon Judgment during the month he entered prison. He has been imprisoned for five years and has never participated in a single Blood Moon Judgment."

Ash let out a sound of surprise. He remembered Lang Na saying that every death row inmate had to participate in their first Blood Moon Judgment. In prison, it was called "going through the motions." Only by getting through it would they qualify to create value in Broken Lake Prison. Those who failed only qualified to become fertilizer.

"Why could he avoid Blood Moon Judgment? Because he's an Elf? Didn't they say racial equality is Blood Moon Country's foremost principle?"

"Racial equality is certainly the foremost principle."

A mysterious smile hung on Igula's face.

"But some races are more equal than others."

Of course. Equality was a horizon—it existed everywhere, but could never be reached anywhere... Ash did not feel much about it. After all, he had only just arrived and knew little about how "racial equality" was implemented here.

"Then why did he challenge me?"

"That starts with his crimes. Although stealing patented technology and murdering a colleague are serious crimes, they weren't enough to send him to Broken Lake Prison. The crime that truly provoked the upper ranks' fury was that he privately raised a child!"

Ash looked utterly bewildered.

What the hell?

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

"Because it isn't allowed. No one is allowed to raise children privately."

Ash grew even more confused.

"If no one raises children, then how did you... how did we grow up?"

"We all grew up in Nurturing Homes." Igula frowned tightly. "Socialized Parenting is Blood Moon Country's fundamental national policy. Are you picking a fight by asking that?"

Socialized Parenting?

Ash tried his best to comprehend this unfamiliar term. "You mean the state raised all of us, and everyone is..."

He wanted to say, "an orphan without a father or mother," but the words caught in his throat.

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

Rather, Ash simply couldn't find the words.

He desperately searched through Hiss's mind, only to discover that Hiss's native-language dictionary did not contain words similar to "father" or "mother"! The only remotely related term was "guardian"!

There could be no stronger evidence than that.

The very absence of words for "parents" was enough to prove that those two roles simply did not exist in Blood Moon Country's social relationships!

Wait, orphans raised through Socialized Parenting, Neck Microchips capable of controlling everyone's words and actions...

Ash suddenly felt a trace of fear toward the world beyond the prison.

What kind of world had I transmigrated into?