A crisp smack echoed loudly, and the tattooed thug’s head suddenly started wobbling like a bobblehead.
The Cutter flinched from where he stood behind him.
“Huh?”
Wait, what the h*ll? Why did he just start hitting people?
So low-class! And what does that even have to do with showing off his strength?
Lu Ce had actually held back with that slap, but the guy’s head kept swaying for a bit before his face quickly puffed up with a red welt.
Neither the thug nor his little gang of underlings knew what just happened. Sure, no one in this prison was a good guy, but you’d expect soone to at least have a reason before throwing hands.
Did they even know each other?
“How’s that?!” Lu Ce turned his head and called out to the Cutter, as if asking for praise.
“Does that et the standard?”
Whoosh! Everyone turned to glare at the Cutter, faces full of hostility.
The Cutter: !!
“Hold up, I don’t know him! I’ve got nothing to do with him!”
He denied it three tis in a row, then imdiately turned and shoved into the crowd, trying to disappear as fast as possible.
Talk about bad luck—ran into a lunatic. No way he was getting dragged into so ss now. Ti to bail!
Seeing him leave like that, the group of gangsters snapped out of it.
Sh*t! That punk just hit soone, didn’t he?
He’s f***ing dead!
In an instant, everyone jumped to their feet. The thug boss who got slapped was still a little dizzy as he stood up.
But Lu Ce wasn’t worried at all—he knew he was stronger, and he was steady as a rock.
He reacted fast. The mont the boss got up, Lu Ce landed a solid kick and sent him flying, crashing into all the equipnt.
Then he turned and bolted, diving into the crowd.
The boss’s lackeys wanted to go after him, trying to look tough, but they paused when they heard gasping behind them.
“! Wait... help up!”
They turned around and saw their boss lying on the ground, pinned under a bench press barbell, totally stuck.
First he got slapped, then he got kicked into next week—no way he could stand up. The barbell was crushing his chest, and his face was turning purple.
A bunch of his boys rushed over and clumsily helped him up.
While the boss was still wheezing, Lu Ce had already dashed off and vanished.
“Find him! This prison ain’t that big—he’ll always be Blood Gang’s enemy!”
The boss roared, trying to sound fierce, but he was gasping so bad he started coughing violently again.
But it was too late. Lu Ce was already back at the cell door.
The second he was out of everyone’s sight, he went full speed. He was so fast he was practically a blur, sprinting all the way back.
His body began to shift and warp, his facial structure changing—reforming into a pink mask.
A creepy grin appeared on the pink mask.
He adjusted himself and walked right into his cell.
“Next. Move your a** already.”
Seeing the pink mask walk in, the others were shocked at first, then went silent. No one said a word.
Truth be told, based on how they split the ti, Lu Ce had already way overstayed his turn.
They’d figured this annoying, sharp-tongued punk wouldn’t co back.
And yet... he actually left them so ti?
Lu Ce climbed straight onto his bunk without a word. The guy with the scar thought for a second, then walked toward the cell door.
Lu Ce smirked to himself—just as he thought!
He knew it. Back when he said he wanted to go out first, Scarface had been the one to jump up and object—probably because he was originally supposed to go first.
That’s exactly why Lu Ce chose to take his form.
His ti was limited. These people needed to die—fast.
“Hold up. With more people now, your ti’s gonna be shorter. Keep track yourself.”
Just as Scarface was about to leave, the old man suddenly spoke. His tone was stiff—none of these guys were exactly buddy-buddy.
Scarface paused, gave him a cold glare, said nothing, and walked out.
“Hmph!”
As the door shut behind him, the others all let out a collective snort, clearly unhappy with him.
Who gets to go out first depends on strength. Scarface had probably been one of the stronger ones among them.
“This guy’s definitely going over his ti,” the old man muttered darkly. Among the original five, he was always the last to go out.
Now with the pink mask added in and Yellow-Hair gone, the pink mask had hogged too much ti. If Scarface didn’t watch himself...
The rest of them stayed quiet. No matter how they calculated it, it shouldn’t affect them.
So, they decided to mind their own business.
“Heh, look on the bright side.” Suddenly, Lu Ce’s sharp, mocking voice cut in.
“Maybe he’s just not coming back.”
Everyone: ......
Their faces twisted. This pink-masked bastard rubbed them all the wrong way on instinct—but with the strength he’d shown earlier, no one dared to talk back.
They’d all been in this cell for a long ti, dodging the fate of being “fed” through every trick in the book.
Now, they had no idea how to deal with this new guy. Best not to stir anything up.
Besides, none of them took Lu Ce’s comnt seriously.
After throwing out that jab, Lu Ce shut up. He had no intention of talking to corpses.
These people were all going to die.
...
And sure enough, as the minutes ticked by...
Scarface never ca back.
Not even after yard ti ended.
Everyone stared grimly at the door.
At first, they were pissed—Lu Ce had eaten up all their ti. The old man had even looked a little better at that point.
But now, Scarface still hadn’t returned.
What the h*ll happened out there? After all the hiding they’d done in this cell, they lost two guys in one day?
For a mont, everyone’s eyes turned cold and fearful as they stared at the pink mask lying motionless on the bed.
And soon, Lu Ce would find out why these guys were so desperate for yard ti...
And what kind of punishnt this prison really had in store.
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