Bang, bang, bang!
?The sharp, heavy thuds of a guard’s baton hammering violently against the iron bars shatter the silence of the cell block.
?"Dinner time! Everyone to the dining hall now!" a harsh voice barks down the corridor. "Move fast, or you won’t be let out of your cells for the next five days!"
?Wren stands motionless inside his cell, waiting in the dark until the heavy, dragging footsteps of the patrolling guards fade away down the stone hall.
?All day long, his mind has been relentlessly churning over a single question: How do I escape this nightmare of a prison?
?Now, with his stats exponentially boosted and the chilling mysteries of the facility weighing heavily on his shoulders, the time has come to start digging for answers.
?Wren reaches out, grips the heavy iron latch of his cell door, and pulls it open. Stepping out into the dim corridor, he watches as lines of exhausted prisoners shuffle silently toward the mess hall, blending into the grim crowd.
Wren kept his head down as he followed the other prisoners toward the dining hall.
The moment he stepped inside, the smell of stale bread and watery soup assaulted his nose.
Rows of long wooden tables filled the hall, surrounded by hundreds of prisoners. Some ate silently, while others whispered among themselves. A few glanced at Wren, but most quickly lost interest and returned to their meals.
Wren couldn’t blame them.
In a place like this, everyone had their own problems.
"Well, at least they haven’t started serving rocks for dinner," Envy remarked, floating beside him in its invisible state.
Wren ignored the owl and collected a metal tray from the serving counter.
The meal consisted of a piece of stale bread, a bowl of thin soup, and something that vaguely resembled boiled vegetables.
Wren stared at the tray.
"...Is this food or a punishment?"
"Perhaps both," Envy replied cheerfully. "Eat up. I’d hate for you to die of starvation before someone gets the chance to kill you."
"You’re incredibly supportive, you know that?"
"I do my best."
Wren sighed and found an empty seat near the end of a table.
He had barely taken two bites when someone dropped heavily onto the bench opposite him.
It was Hudson.
The massive man held a tray in one hand and a chunk of bread in the other. He shoved the bread into his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed.
Then he looked at Wren’s meal.
"Not eating?"
"I’m trying to figure out whether this soup is supposed to be liquid or solid."
Hudson burst into laughter.
"HAHAHA! You’ll get used to it, brat!"
"That’s what I’m afraid of."
Wren reluctantly took another spoonful.
It tasted terrible.
But after ten days of barely receiving enough food to stay alive, even this miserable excuse for a meal was better than nothing.
He swallowed and turned his attention toward Hudson.
Wren stepped out of his cell and joined the line of prisoners heading toward the dining hall.
The moment he entered, the familiar noise of clattering bowls and loud conversations filled his ears. Prisoners crowded around long wooden tables, eagerly devouring whatever scraps of food the guards had provided.
Wren ignored them and scanned the room.
It didn’t take long for him to spot a familiar, broad-shouldered figure sitting alone at the end of a table.
Hudson.
The massive man was shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Wren approached him and pulled out the empty seat opposite him.
"Hey, Hudson. I’ve got a question."
Hudson didn’t even look up.
"Only one? I’m impressed. I figured that empty head of yours would have at least a hundred."
Wren’s eyebrow twitched.
This damn old man...
He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the insult.
"Didn’t you tell me that I was the one who challenged you during our fight?"
Hudson’s hand stopped halfway to his mouth.
Slowly, he raised his head and stared at Wren.
"What?"
"During the fight," Wren repeated. "You said I was the one who challenged you. I understand that much."
Hudson continued staring at him, as though trying to figure out what the hell the boy was talking about.
Then he scratched his beard.
"Well, you did challenge me. That’s a fact."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You walked into the arena, looked me straight in the eyes, and agreed to fight me."
Wren frowned.
"That’s not what I meant."
"Then spit it out, brat. I haven’t got all day."
Wren leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"What I want to know is... why did you agree to fight me?"
Hudson blinked.
For a moment, the noisy dining hall seemed to fade into the background.
Then he burst into laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! Are you seriously asking me that now?"
Wren’s face darkened.
"Just answer the damn question!"
"Fine, fine!"
Hudson waved his hand dismissively, still grinning.
"Yes, you were the one who challenged me. But honestly, I figured you were asking me to kill you."
Wren froze.
"...What?"
"Look at yourself, kid. You were practically a walking corpse when you entered that arena. You could barely stand, let alone fight. And yet, you challenged someone like me."
Hudson leaned back in his chair, folding his massive arms across his chest.
"What else was I supposed to think?"
Wren stared at him in disbelief.
"You thought I wanted to die?"
"Pretty much."
Hudson shrugged.
"You looked like someone who’d already given up on living. I figured you’d had enough of this miserable place and wanted someone to put you out of your misery."
Wren’s expression gradually changed.
He remembered the officer who had threatened him in his cell.
You won’t survive the next round.
At the time, Wren had assumed the man was simply trying to intimidate him.
But now...
"Wait a minute." Wren narrowed his eyes. "What exactly do you mean by ’this miserable place’?"
Hudson’s grin faded slightly.
For the first time since Wren had approached him, the older man seemed reluctant to answer.
He glanced around the dining hall before lowering his voice.
"Listen, brat. There’s a reason people like you end up in that arena."
Wren leaned closer.
"And what’s that reason?"
Hudson looked him straight in the eyes.
"Because in this prison, nobody gets to decide how they die."
Wren’s stomach tightened.
Before he could ask another question, Hudson picked up his bowl and stood.
"That’s all you’re getting out of me today."
"Hey! I’m not finished asking you questions!"
"Then save them for someone who gives a damn."
Hudson walked away, leaving Wren sitting alone at the table.
Wren watched his retreating back, his expression growing serious.
What the hell is going on in this prison?
For the first time since arriving in Norhera, he began to suspect that the arena wasn’t simply a place where prisoners fought for entertainment.
It was something far worse.