Finding Joy in Misery

But the man was more talkative than he looked. Zhou Ze's question seemed to have opened the floodgates.

A look of reminiscence came into his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke again:

"I used to... I used to do pretty well for myself. Went into business with someone and made a bit of money..."

He spoke in fits and starts. "One day, a friend said he'd take me to try something new..."

"And you tried it?" Zhou Ze kept staring at the ceiling without turning his head.

"Yeah... At first, I thought just once wouldn't hurt." The man gave a bitter smile. "After that, it spiraled out of control..."

Some people were just like that. Quitting jerking off felt like it would kill them, yet they naively believed they could quit drugs.

The same old story...

"Then you drained your savings and went down a road you couldn't come back from?" Zhou Ze turned his head and glanced at him.

"No... My daughter's illness was the last straw..." The man's eyes were full of regret and despair. "She was only nine... Only nine..."

The frail man rambled on for a long time, speaking of his longing for his young daughter and pouring out his regrets.

But Zhou Ze remained silent.

Only when he finished did Zhou Ze casually ask, "Have you thought about what you'll do once you get out?"

"I want to see my daughter... Tell her I love her."

"Oh. Will you still use drugs when you get out?"

The question made the man shudder. He stared blankly for a moment, his throat shifting. Only after a long pause did he murmur:

"I... I don't know."

That killed any interest Zhou Ze had in continuing the conversation.

He really couldn't relate.

"What's the rush? Racing to your next life, dumbass?"

Just then, a deliberately hushed curse came from nearby.

It came from three burly, vicious-looking men.

Their muscles bulged beneath their prison uniforms, and faint, savage grins lingered on their faces.

Keeping a wary eye on the guards' movements, the three men edged inconspicuously toward the passing Class-D personnel.

The burly man in front pretended nothing was amiss as he deliberately bumped into a small, thin man's arm.

Caught off guard, the man stumbled, then turned to glare at him.

But once he got a clear look at the three men, the anger in his eyes instantly gave way to apprehension, and he became meek and submissive.

"Watch where you're going," one of the burly men said coldly.

The thin man apologized over and over in a low, deferential voice. Only after the three nodded did he hurry away in relief.

At the sight, the three burly men smiled in satisfaction, then began looking for their next target. Their eyes swept the crowd like predators selecting their prey.

Finding joy in misery.

Whatever the circumstances, there were always people who enjoyed hurting others for no benefit to themselves.

Strictly speaking, of course, they did benefit, if only by satisfying their own vile, twisted impulses.

Friction was inevitable when people interacted, especially among Class-D personnel, most of whom were death-row inmates. As long as a conflict didn't escalate into an actual fight, the guards generally wouldn't bother with such trivial matters.

The three burly men were particular about their bullying targets, too. They chose people who looked small and thin, or whose timid eyes suggested a weak disposition.

As the trio drew closer, Zhou Ze glanced at the skeletal Class-D beside him.

Hmm... Small and thin.

Then he remembered his own face in the mirror.

Hmm... Harmless-looking.

Just perfect...

Sure enough, the three burly men soon fixed their sights on the pair in the corner.

"Trouble's coming... Get moving..."

The frail Class-D seemed well acquainted with this sort of thing. After quietly warning Zhou Ze, he scrambled up, hurried toward a guard stationed some distance away, and plopped down beside him.

Having never encountered anything like this before, Zhou Ze reacted a beat too late. He had only just stood up when the three burly men quickened their pace and blocked his path.

Tch... Trouble out of nowhere...

The sudden escape of their prey seemed to have left the three men very displeased.

"Who are you calling names, punk?"

The leader grinned viciously, making a baseless accusation while acting as though Zhou Ze had provoked him.

Swearing, he thrust out his thick right arm to shove Zhou Ze's right shoulder.

Zhou Ze didn't particularly care about trouble like this, but there was no sense taking a beating for nothing. He had no intention of getting into a fight under these circumstances and then being inexplicably shot dead by a guard.

Left... No, there's a wall to the left...

Better just call a guard...

But Zhou Ze's body reacted before his mind did.

He swiftly turned sideways and leaned back slightly, neatly avoiding the shove. At the same time, his right hand shot out like lightning, fingers hooked into a claw, and clamped precisely around the burly man's wrist.

In that split second, Zhou Ze's fingers seemed to develop a will of their own, locating the man's wrist joint with perfect accuracy. His thumb and forefinger formed a pincer, locking firmly around it.

Then Zhou Ze sharply twisted his wrist. With a crisp crack, the burly man's wrist joint was instantly dislocated.

Pain made the burly man's face twist into an even uglier grimace. His thick arm dropped under Zhou Ze's control, and he staggered backward in agony.

"Uh..." The sudden turn of events left Zhou Ze himself stunned.

That whole sequence of movements had felt more like an instinctive reaction. He hadn't thought any of it through.

He quickly regained his focus and watched the three men, bracing for a counterattack at any moment.

But to his surprise, all three took a step back. None seemed inclined to fight back, their bluster masking cowardice.

The leader's eyes were venomous. Cradling his right arm with his left hand, he bared his teeth and snarled, "You're done for, punk..."

Then he suddenly turned around and let out an agonized scream. The other two shouted at the same time:

"Guard! Someone's attacking us!"

"He's going to kill someone!"

What the fuck...

Zhou Ze was dumbfounded.

These guys were clearly bullies, so why were they pulling a staged-accident scam?

Bang...

The sudden gunshot made Zhou Ze's pupils contract. Instinctively, he threw himself to the floor, covering his head with both hands and pressing his body against the cold ground.

Bang...

Bang...

After three consecutive shots, the entire space fell deathly silent. Every Class-D froze like a statue, their gazes converging on the same spot.

Zhou Ze slowly raised his head. The sight before him instantly took his breath away.

The three burly men lay dead less than a meter in front of him. Each had a dark bullet hole between his eyebrows. Blood gushed out, pooling into a little crimson stream on the floor.

Their eyes were still wide open, their faces frozen in the terror and disbelief of their final moments. They had died with their eyes unclosed.

Curled up on the floor, Zhou Ze felt as though his heart would leap out of his chest. Its frantic pounding thundered in his ears.

Warm liquid trickled down his face. Zhou Ze wiped it with his hand, and his fingertips came away coated in sticky crimson. It was blood that had splashed onto his face.