"Hey, brother, want to get out of here?"
The next afternoon, after the guard holding a brass-buckled belt walked away, Song Zhong quietly asked the short man beside him who handled the packaging.
"Of course, but how?" The short man held the box with one hand and a roll of tape with the other, resting his leg on the box.
At Song Zhong's words, the man turned his head, looking dejected. "Loads of people have tried before, and they all failed. They were either killed on the spot or sent off to generate power. I don't see a way out."
Song Zhong forced a faint smile. "Actually, I have a plan."
"What kind of plan?" A flicker of interest appeared in the short laborer's eyes.
Looks like he took the bait.
Song Zhong smiled. "After so many failed attempts, we decided to put together a solid plan and use our advantage in numbers to escape."
"Tell me more, tell me more." The short man immediately dropped his tape and leaned closer.
"Look, how many guards are there in this factory? The tyrant doesn't have that many lackeys. If we use our numbers, we might stand a fighting chance."
"And there's more."
Song Zhong coaxed him along. "We can stir up some disturbances together and keep them too busy to deal with everything. Then we all attack them and run."
The short man was tempted by the plan.
It was true. With enough people, the chaos they could cause once things kicked off would be enormous. They all believed they had a chance.
"The problem is, even if we get out of the factory, there might be more guards outside..."
The short man still hesitated.
"What's there to be afraid of? There are so many of us!"
Song Zhong kept goading