Extra: I Am the Jail King
I was a proud prison administrator. My father was a prison administrator, my grandfather was a prison administrator, and my grandfather's grandfather had also been a prison administrator.
Every ancestor recorded in our family genealogy had been a prison administrator, so I became one too—commonly known as a Jail King.
A Jail King had only one duty: managing the prison.
There were only two kinds of people in prison: jailers and prisoners.
By coincidence, there were only two kinds of people in the universe as well: victors and losers.
The victor was king, the loser a prisoner. Thus, the prison contained both victors and losers. If victors chose to enter the prison and become jailers, they could escape endless battle.
Whether losers wished it or not, they would be sent into prison. After strict classification, they would be dispatched to prisons of different levels to serve their sentences. The worst fate was exile to a Small Universe.
Because I had grown up in prison, I had seen many prisoners and jailers. When I was young, I liked the prisoners very much because they had so many stories. Every story was different—some thrilling and bizarre, some deeply moving. Every prisoner's tale seemed unique, as though there were always new stories to hear, enough that one could listen forever without reaching the end.
But when I grew older, I discovered that all prisoners' stories, no matter how they were told, truly contained only one word: "defeat." The beginning or end of every tale was a story of failure, so all those stories were sad.
Perhaps I had listened for too long and heard too many of them, but I gradually stopped liking those sorrowful stories. I wanted to hear stories that made people happy.
So I