Time passed slowly.
Soon, a week had gone by.
On this day, Li Dao was squatting in the corner as usual, eating his soaked flatbread.
Because of the display of power a week ago, no one had dared to bother him during this time.
Similarly, no one dared to disturb others either.
After all, no one knew if the person they picked a fight with might be as deceptively formidable as Li Dao. If they ended up in trouble, they might meet the same fate as the burly man—killed, ears cut off, and their body thrown outside to feed the beasts.
In short, the week passed relatively peacefully.
If it were before the system appeared, this result would have been exactly what Li Dao wanted.
But with the system now, he regretted intimidating his fellow prisoners too much.
No one causing trouble for him also meant he couldn't use the system to grow stronger for the time being.
"Forget it, let's wait and see."
Li Dao thought to himself.
It had only been a week, and the Death Row Camp was never short of people looking for trouble.
"Wake up, wake up."
Suddenly, a commotion of footsteps came from outside the cell door.
Everyone looked up to see a soldier in armor, clearly of higher rank than the ordinary soldiers, approaching with several jailers in tow.
One of the jailers stepped forward and asked, "Centurion Liu, what brings you here today..."
Before he could finish, Centurion Liu interrupted with a raised hand, "I have a mission and need to select twenty death row prisoners from your camp."
His voice wasn't loud, but the death row prisoners in the surrounding cells heard it clearly.
In an instant, almost all the prisoners showed expressions of panic.
Because being selected as a death row prisoner likely meant going out with regular soldiers to complete a military mission.
In most military missions, the role of death row prisoners was to die, to attract the enemy's attention as cannon fodder.
Usually, if one out of ten selected prisoners returned, it was considered extremely lucky.
More often, they never came back.
So, the prisoners panicked upon hearing this, as being chosen almost equated to a death sentence.
Upon hearing this, the jailer enthusiastically asked, "What kind of prisoners do you need, Centurion Liu?"
"I need a batch that's not too old, and no disabled ones. You can help me pick them."
As soon as he said this, the older prisoners in the cells breathed a sigh of relief, while those who met the criteria grew tense.
Each one prayed silently not to be chosen.
The jailer nodded, "Understood, I'll pick them for you."
Whether it was good luck or bad luck, the first cell the jailer chose was the one Li Dao was in.
Two jailers entered, their eyes scanning around. The prisoners tried to avoid their gaze, but soon enough, someone was selected.
"You, come out."
One of the jailers pointed to a spot and called out.
After a while, seeing no response, the jailer smirked, "Trying to hide, are you?"
The jailer walked directly into the group of prisoners, grabbing one by the hair and dragging him out.
"I don't want to go, I don't want to leave here."
The prisoner, realizing he had been chosen, struggled and kicked on the ground.
"Don't want to go? Then you'll die right now."
The jailer was unceremonious, drawing his blade and placing it against the prisoner's neck when he didn't comply.
Instantly, the cold blade made the prisoner freeze.
Suddenly, the prisoner seemed to think of something and decisively bit down on his left thumb.
With a crunch!
A painful groan escaped as the prisoner spat out his thumb, a grim smile on his face, "According to the Great Qian Code, those with a severed thumb are considered disabled. Now that I'm disabled, I don't have to go, right?"
At this, the jailers laughed, clearly amused.
The jailer with the drawn blade lowered it, smiling playfully, "Who would've thought a death row prisoner like you would know the Great Qian Code?"
The prisoner, recalling his past, couldn't help but smile proudly, "I was once an 8th-Rank Official, well-read since childhood. This is nothing."
"An 8th-Rank Official?"
The jailer sneered, "Even if you were a 1st-Rank High Official, it wouldn't matter in this Death Row Camp."
With that, he drew his blade again, speaking coldly, "Now you have two choices: cripple your right thumb as well, or step out."
Right thumb?
The prisoner looked at his right hand, frozen in place.
Losing the less-used left thumb was one thing, but losing the right thumb meant being completely crippled, unable to hold anything.
In such a state, in the brutal Death Row Camp, he might as well be dead. He knew many prisoners wouldn't hesitate to kick him when he's down.
Thinking of this, the 8th-Rank prisoner showed a complex expression, finally sighing and stepping out reluctantly.
Going out still held a chance of returning, but losing the right thumb meant no chance at all.
Seeing this, the jailer sneered and continued selecting prisoners.
Faced with the jailer's gaze, all eligible prisoners tried to hide in the corners.
But the cell was only so big; there was nowhere to hide. In the end, qualified individuals were picked out one by one.
And each one selected showed a look of despair.
"You seem to have all your limbs intact, come out."
At this moment, Li Dao saw a jailer pointing at him.
Since he was the only one in the corner, it was naturally him who was chosen.
Compared to the other prisoners, Li Dao remained calm.
He stood up simply and walked to the selected group with composure.
This made the selecting jailer take a second look at Li Dao.
But upon seeing just a simple pretty face, he lost interest. Such a person might seem calm now, but on the battlefield, he'd probably wet himself in fear.
Though Li Dao appeared calm on the surface, inside he was both excited and a bit nervous.
Excited because after more than a month, he could finally leave the Death Row Camp and see the outside world.
Nervous because of this death row mission.
Although his golden finger required him to kill enemies to grow stronger.
The previous kill of the burly man was a result of meticulous preparation and a sneak attack.
Now, going out might mean facing real combat against enemies, so nervousness was natural.
But he also knew that if he could survive the first mission, the path ahead would only get easier.
A quick look at will leave you more fulfilled.
One cell wasn't enough, so the jailer selected a few more.
Finally, twenty death row prisoners were gathered.
Centurion Liu glanced at them and nodded to the jailer, "I'll take these people with me."
With that, he turned and left with his men.
The jailers called after him, "Centurion Liu, take care."
......
Led by Centurion Liu, Li Dao and the others soon arrived at the foot of a staircase.
Looking up the steps, a faint light could be seen.
Seeing the stairs, many began to breathe heavily.
Because going up these steps led to the outside world they had longed for.
"Let's go."
Centurion Liu glanced back, saw everyone following, and led them up the stairs.
With a creak!
The wooden door embedded in the ground was pushed open from both sides, and Centurion Liu and his men stepped out.
The death row prisoners followed, one by one, through the wooden door.
In an instant, the scorching sun bathed them.
Seeing the sun in the sky, all the prisoners instinctively took a deep breath, as if they could smell the scent of freedom.
However, upon noticing the shackles on their hands and feet, they became dejected, realizing the reality.
In the crowd, Li Dao took a deep breath under the blazing sun, smelling the sand in the air while surveying his surroundings.
Tents were pitched all around, with many soldiers moving back and forth along the road.
"Stay close, if you wander off and get mistaken for an escaping prisoner and killed, don't blame me for not warning you."
Under Centurion Liu's lead, Li Dao and the others were soon brought to a tent.
Inside the tent were many uniforms identical to those of the soldiers, though they looked somewhat worn.
"All of you, put on these clothes, then I'll brief you on tonight's mission."
Centurion Liu pointed at the clothes.
Hearing this, the prisoners could only nod numbly and find clothes to wear.
Li Dao picked a set that seemed slightly cleaner, then changed out of his prisoner garb.
A few minutes later, everyone had changed.
Seeing the prisoners dressed up, Centurion Liu nodded, "Now I'll explain the mission, listen carefully."
"Tonight, your mission as death row prisoners is to join us in raiding a small Northern Barbarian camp."
"If the mission is completed, although you won't be freed from your status as death row prisoners, you'll earn a merit, allowing you to live better in the Death Row Camp."
"Additionally, I can promise you a reward of a feast with meat and wine if the mission is successful."
Perhaps some were easily swayed, as many prisoners grew excited at the mention of meat and wine, with some even drooling. Who knew how long it had been since they last had such things.
Even Li Dao's stomach growled embarrassingly.
There was no helping it, a piece of bread a day wasn't enough to fill anyone.
Seeing the prisoners' reactions, Centurion Liu nodded and whispered to a soldier beside him, "Keep an eye on these prisoners, and distribute weapons to them when it's almost dark."
"Understood."
"Also, get them some bread and water."
"Centurion, isn't that a waste?"
"Are you stupid? If they don't eat, how will they have the strength to block blades for you?"
"Centurion, you're smart."
"Of course, otherwise why am I the Centurion and you're just a soldier?"
......
Night fell quickly.
Li Dao and the others were soon led by several soldiers to a grassy plain outside the camp.
There, they met Centurion Liu again.
"Distribute weapons."
At Centurion Liu's command, several soldiers brought out a basket filled with various weapons.
They distributed them one by one according to the number of prisoners.
Soon, all the prisoners were equipped with a weapon.
Though the quality seemed lacking.
Some held long spears, others broken staves, and some even had weapons that were little more than half a broken blade.
Li Dao glanced around, feeling his weapon wasn't too bad.
A rusty knife.
Commonly known as: Tetanus Blade.
Unfortunately, the blade was dull, almost a rounded arc, with no edge in sight.
But he understood why.
Faced with a group of prisoners with almost no loyalty, no one would provide them with good weapons.
Otherwise, if the prisoners turned, these weapons would only be used against them.
Besides, they were just cannon fodder, so giving them good weapons would be a waste.
Here, the prisoners seemed to understand, only quietly complaining among themselves, with no one daring to voice their opinions loudly.
Of course, even if they did, no one would care.
They had clothes, they had weapons.
Next, under Centurion Liu's lead, a group of prisoners mixed with over a hundred soldiers set off into the night on the plains.