# 296
Chapter 296: Together
The man’s voice echoed through the prison. A soft click followed, and every cell door swung open at once. Inmates filed out, forming neat lines as they marched toward the exit.
The moment they cleared the gate, Boss Han led forty-odd men in a grim-faced charge toward a dim corner—the far end of the reading-room floor. Shadowed from the sun, lit only by a single surveillance camera at the corridor’s end, it was the Purification Chamber’s weakest watch-point after the toilets.
Three men were already huddled there. Seeing Boss Han’s hostile approach, their eyes narrowed.
The leader rose slowly. “Han Jinlong, what’s with the army?”
Boss Han swept his gaze over them. “You know damn well why I’m here.”
The man blinked, glanced at his two companions; all three looked blank. “Picking a fight?”
“Heh.” Boss Han cracked his neck, savage grin spreading. “So what if I am? Think I’m easy meat?”
“Han Jinlong.” The leader’s face chilled. “Do you even know who we are?”
“You? Just Believers.” Boss Han jabbed a finger at each. “Twelfth Seat, Sixth Seat, and Fourth Seat.”
“Knowing that, you still come? Outside, I could crush ten like you with one finger!” Fourth Seat spat.
“Don’t care which seat or realm you are. This isn’t ‘outside’—this is the Purification Chamber.” Boss Han thumped his chest. “Here, I’m the boss!”
He flung his arm. “Get ’em!”
Forty prisoners surged down the narrow hall. A brutal melee erupted.
Fifteen minutes later.
Boss Han dusted his hands, spat on three bruised, groaning Believers. “Mess with me? Idiots… Let’s roll!”
His battered entourage limped away, shooting triumphant sneers over their shoulders.
The Believers lay staring, eyes blood-shot with hate. Out there they were calamity itself; in here, only tougher-than-average mortals. Outnumbered and forbidden their Forbidden Ruins, even their skill couldn’t topple forty-plus hardened thugs—especially with Boss Han’s freakish strength.
They’d been thrashed—soundly.
Sixth Seat hauled himself up, wiping Han’s spit, trembling with rage. “I’ll gut that Han Jinlong tonight!”
“Cool it.” Fourth Seat dabbed blood, inhaled. “Whatever set him off, we can’t lose focus. Remember Yiyu’s orders?”
At the name, the others fell silent.
“Our task’s almost done. We’ve waited years—what’re a few more days?” Fourth Seat’s eyes iced over. “Once the Zhenxu Stele shatters and this place riots, Han Jinlong will beg for death. Till then—wait.”
…
“So you’re the new fish.”
Outside the gate, a scar-faced thug blocked An Qingyu, sizing him up.
An Qingyu studied him. “Need something?”
“Know One-Eye? Used to be across from your cell.”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill him?”
An Qingyu blinked innocently. “Kill? In prison? Impossible.”
Scar-Face scowled, searching the boy’s clear eyes for lies—found none. “Really not you?”
“Nope.”
“What’re you in for?”
“Stealing.”
“Huh.” Scar-Face scratched his head. Maybe he’d misjudged; this harmless kid couldn’t have silently offed and butchered One-Eye. “Beat it, then.”
An Qingyu turned.
“Wait—lift your chin.”
Scar-Face leaned in, studying the delicate face. A gleam lit his eyes. “Another pretty piece… Han will like this. Come with me.”
An Qingyu’s lip twitched. “I can go?”
“Not anymore.” Scar-Face rubbed hands, grinning. “You’re Han’s now. Smart boys cooperate.”
An Qingyu glanced around. “Before I ‘cooperate,’ I need the toilet.”
“Sure, I’ll wait outside.”
An Qingyu hesitated. “Let’s… go together?”