Guide To Surviving Prison Is Getting Screwed By General Lily! [BL] Chapter 18: The Blackmere Professor And The Prison Economy!

The man was still talking even though Ruaan had ignored him.

"—and so the title ca naturally, you understand, because knowledge is the only true currency in a place like this, and I have accumulated considerable—"

Ruaan lifted his hand. "Doctor."

He raised it toward the nearest nurse who was passing with a clipboard, already opening his mouth to ask how long he was supposed to be in here and when he could leave and whether his hand was actually broken or just—

"Wait." The professor’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "My na is Seo."

Ruaan stopped.

"Seo Jihan." He said it like a completely normal person, different from the dramatic self-introduction he had five minutes ago. It was almost as if that had not happened at all.

Ruaan lowered his hand slowly and looked at him. "You could have just said that."

Seo tilted his head. "Where’s the fun in that?"

"So it’s okay to just say your na?"

"It’s just a na." Seo pushed his broken glasses up. "What’s wrong with it?"

Ruaan opened his mouth and closed it.

He thought about three days of calling people Bandaged Arm and Split Lip and Bruised Jaw in his head like that was a completely normal thing to do. He thought about referring to Cullen Ray’s n as Top Two and Top Three for the entirety of his ti here.

He sighed.

"Ruaan," he said. "I’m Ruaan."

Seo looked at him as he rubbed his chin slowly. "Ruaan," he repeated. "I like it."

"Don’t like it."

"Why not—"

The cigarette sll hit him again, thick and sudden, and Ruaan’s lungs filed an imdiate formal complaint. He coughed hard, twice, and turned his head away.

"The cigarettes," he said again, eyes watering. "How? We are in a ’prison.’"

Seo picked up his BL comic, opened it, and pointed lazily with the spine toward the far end of the infirmary without looking up. "It’s coming from the dark blue section. They didn’t lose the button ga. They fought each other."

Ruaan squinted across the room. Sure enough — a cluster of dark blue uniforms on the far beds, several of them wrapped, one with his eye swollen shut, all of them seemingly unbothered about being in the infirmary at all.

"They fought because they ’wanted’ to?" Ruaan said.

"To decide who becos the next chief." Seo turned a page. "Dark blue do it when the current chief gets weak or soone wants to challenge. Whoever wins takes the title."

"Chief." Ruaan looked at him. "Grey uniform has that too, right?"

Seo laughed.

It was the laugh. That laugh.

The full ani side character’s kind of laughter. With his head back and hand coming up to cover his mouth.

"Grey uniform has Dex," he said, as if that explained everything. "Nobody challenges Dex. Nobody ’wants’ to challenge Dex. They all just—" he waved his hand "—swore loyalty and that was that."

"He must be sothing."

"He is." Seo said it simply. "Dex is different."

Ruaan looked at the ceiling and thought about the compact. The quiet man he saw the day before the ga.

Then he looked at Seo properly for the first ti.

He was also wearing a grey uniform.

Of course.

"You were bottom ten yesterday," Ruaan said.

Seo nodded without looking up from his comic. "They broke two fingers. My back has approximately four things wrong with it right now." He paused. "Do you want to see?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It’s quite impressive in a terrible way—"

"I’m sure."

Ruaan looked at his own wrapped hands. He imdiately thought about what happened in the cell and asked about the fact that tomorrow morning, he had to be with Cullen. He recalled Cullen’s instruction and felt his jaw tighten automatically.

"What are you doing in Blackre?" he asked.

Seo was quiet for a mont.

"Atoning," he said.

Just one final word.

Ruaan looked at him and didn’t push. He already knew — asking soone why they were here was the kind of question you didn’t ask. Not in Blackre. Everyone had sothing they were carrying and none of it was anyone else’s business until they decided it was.

"Okay," Ruaan said simply.

Seo glanced at him sideways. Sothing in his expression shifted slightly and then he was back behind his comic.

"You didn’t ask," Seo said.

"It’s not my business, so why?"

There was a pause before Seo spoke again.

"I didn’t answer your cigarette question properly either," Seo said.

Ruaan opened his mouth to say it didn’t matter and then Seo kept talking and Ruaan’s mouth stayed open for a different reason.

"Prisoners have accounts," Seo said, still reading. "Anyone from outside can deposit money into it. Family, friends, whoever. And once you have money in your account you can order things."

Ruaan stared at him. "Order things."

"From outside. Soone buys it for you, brings it in. Cigarettes. Food. Books." He held up his BL comic briefly as evidence. "Soap. Whatever you need."

Ruaan sat up straighter. His wrapped hands pressed into the mattress. "You can get things from ’outside.’"

"If you have money in your account. And if you’re dark blue and above." Seo turned another page. "Grey uniform accounts exist but they’re frozen. You can’t spend anything until you move up."

"And the inside trade?"

"People buy and sell between themselves. Information, favours, goods. It runs alongside the account system." He shrugged. "Everyone does it. It’s just how Blackre works."

Ruaan was quiet.

He thought about Harolin’s soap, currently sitting on the shelf in his cell room.

He thought about a body wash from Dubai that he had been ordering for two years, which cost more per bottle than most people’s weekly grocery run.

He looked at his wrapped hands.

’Dark blue,’ he thought. ’I need to get to dark blue rank.’

Not eventually. Not whenever the gas decide it. ’He had just one month.’ He had given himself one month and he was keeping that.

That ans, he has four gas. He would climb four rungs in four weeks and he would get his account unfrozen and he would order his body wash from Dubai and he would never sll like prison-issue soap again for the rest of his ti in Blackre.

And after dark blue—

’Top one,’ sothing in the back of his head said quietly. ’Why stop at dark blue?’

He clenched his fists on the mattress, which his wrapped hands imdiately complained about. He unclenched them.

First things first.

He needed to get out of this infirmary before the cigarette smoke made that impossible.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"You’re leaving?" Seo asked without looking up.

"Yes, I am. Before the smoke kills ."

"The nurse hasn’t discharged you."

"I’ll discharge myself." Ruaan stood up carefully, testing his balance. His hands throbbed and his whole body had opinions. He ignored all of them. "Nice to et you, Blackre Professor."

Seo pushed his broken glasses up and looked at him over the top of them. "One month, huh?" he said.

Ruaan stopped. "What?"

"You said one month." Seo’s expression was unreadable behind the lenses. "I heard you thinking loudly."

Ruaan stared at him.

"You can’t hear soone thinking."

"I’m the Blackre Professor," Seo said simply, and went back to his comic.

Ruaan looked at the ceiling.

’One month,’ he told himself, and walked toward the door. ’Starting now.’