The moment the two men heard themselves being called out, they strode over side by side without the slightest fear.
As they moved, the rest of their group followed behind. A few steps slower, perhaps, but still an imposing crowd.
Henry had been worrying that things weren't chaotic enough. Why would he be afraid of trouble?
He walked forward to meet them halfway.
The guy who had previously hooked an arm around his neck wisely chose not to stand beside him. Instead, he called out a warning from behind:
"Kid, you'd better already have a convincing bit of ass-kissing prepared. Otherwise, today won't just leave your ass sore—you're going to suffer."
In a prison environment, advice like that was already unusually kind.
But Henry didn't respond.
What he planned to do wasn't nearly so gentle. Better not drag other people into it and get them implicated.
One of the pair, Ivan Kochetov, was a big man himself.
Compared to his companion, he seemed less capable of suppressing his appetite for fresh young meat.
He immediately reached out with a broad, fan-like hand, intending to seize Henry.
Perhaps the earlier incident, when someone casually slung an arm around Henry's neck, had made everyone assume he was easy prey.
Ivan wanted to do the same thing—hook an arm around him and flirt a little.
This wasn't some "man-on-man" situation.
In a place like prison, a clean-cut young pretty boy like Henry was effectively treated as a woman.
Henry had no desire to kill someone in full view of everyone.
That would attract far too much attention.
So when the men drew near, he casually threw a punch.
The blow didn't knock Ivan down.
It merely turned his face slightly to one side.
The provocation was obvious.
A man like Ivan Kochetov, who had survived several years in prison, was naturally not the sort to take a punch without returning one.
Those kinds of weaklings didn't merely become everyone's punching bag—they died quickly and easily.
Enraged, Ivan swung back.
The punch sent the seemingly frail Kryptonian stumbling backward several steps.
That brief exchange immediately established the hierarchy in everyone's eyes.
Nobody believed a veteran inmate who had survived years inside would lose to a newly arrived rookie.
The surrounding prisoners erupted into cheers and jeers.
Henry, meanwhile, charged forward again like a hotheaded fool.
This time he didn't simply throw a punch.
Instead, like an inexperienced youth who didn't know how to fight, he lowered his head and slammed bodily into Ivan, driving him backward several steps before knocking him into his own group.
That single action was like pouring cold water into a vat of boiling oil.
The entire group exploded.
Including Yuri Kuznetsov, every one of them rushed in to beat up the insolent newcomer.
Henry curled up, covering his head while surrounded by attackers.
Occasionally he lashed out with a powerful shove, knocking someone down or pushing them away.
To all appearances, it looked like the desperate struggle of a man being overwhelmed.
But every shove was carefully calculated.
Henry deliberately pushed people into the crowd of spectators—and specifically toward individuals who obviously looked difficult to provoke.
As expected, those spectators weren't content merely to watch.
Or perhaps Ivan and Yuri's group simply had foul mouths.
Even when they were the ones crashing into people, they still cursed at the victims afterward.
Eventually, one unlucky fool encountered a particularly short-tempered prisoner.
The man grabbed him in place, spun him around—
—and smashed a fist directly into his face.
That punch was like a declaration that the conflict had grown larger.
The men Henry shoved out of the melee were no longer being pushed back into the original fight by bystanders.
Instead, entirely new battlefields opened up.
People who had been shoved or knocked over started fighting each other.
One person.
Two people.
One group.
Two groups.
With Henry—who spent most of his time getting beaten up himself—secretly fueling the flames, the entire recreation yard descended into chaos.
Fights erupted everywhere.
Henry didn't even need to set any fires himself anymore.
Some fought simply because they'd been bumped into and got angry.
Others saw a chance to settle old grudges.
Still others planned to use the confusion to eliminate rivals and seize territory within the prison.
Even the burly man who had earlier shown Henry considerable goodwill became dragged into the melee.
No one was exempt.
Although it hadn't been Henry's intention, the bear-like giant proved exceptionally capable in a fight and showed no restraint whatsoever.
Before long, he became the center of attention—the eye of the storm.
Anyone who got close to him was launched away as though boarding an airplane, flying clear out of the combat zone.
That level of ability convinced Henry that the man was definitely no ordinary person.
Still, Henry only cared whether the giant might interfere with his plans.
If the man wanted to fight and cause trouble too, that wasn't Henry's concern.
As for the prison guards responsible for maintaining order, they displayed remarkable tacit understanding.
They made no effort to intervene immediately.
Instead, they pretended not to notice.
Better to let the inmates beat each other senseless and burn off some energy first.
Once the prisoners exhausted themselves, intervention would become much easier.
By then, even the uninjured ones would be too tired to resist.
And if inmates happened to beat each other to death?
Hardly a major issue.
As the true instigator of the riot, Henry continued huddling with his head covered, absorbing blows like a punching bag.
The number of attackers around him had decreased significantly.
Many had been pushed away and become entangled in other fights.
Only Ivan Kochetov and Yuri Kuznetsov remained near him.
Henry deliberately kept them close.
Neither man realized they were being controlled.
When the opportunity finally arrived, Henry suddenly lunged headfirst into Ivan's chest.
This time he hit hard enough to knock the man flat and roll together with him on the ground.
He wasn't merely knocking Ivan backward anymore.
He was taking him down entirely.
The purpose of pinning the man beneath him was simple:
To conceal his use of one of the Flash's signature techniques—
The molecular vibration hand strike.
No external wound.
Direct destruction of the heart.
While doing so, he quietly whispered into Ivan's ear:
"Ennu-Nuo-Odin sends his regards."
A destroyed heart did not cause instant unconsciousness.
Death still required a little time.
But the agony was enough to prevent Ivan from acting.
Or speaking.
All he could do was stare with wide eyes as Henry scrambled frantically off him and returned to being beaten by the surrounding inmates.
Ivan himself could no longer rise.
His consciousness slowly faded.
At last, his pupils dilated.
Unlike Henry's corner—where the beating was largely one-sided—the rest of the prison yard was engaged in genuine combat.
Many fighters had already become enraged.
Quite a few inmates were sprawled across the ground.
The lucky ones still struggled weakly.
The unlucky ones had been knocked unconscious.
Some had already stopped breathing altogether.
Against that backdrop, one more Ivan Kochetov lying motionless on the ground wasn't particularly remarkable.
No one paid attention.
Even Yuri Kuznetsov, who had entered prison alongside Ivan, noticed nothing unusual.
Instead, he fought even harder.
Almost as though trying to avenge his friend.
Henry shoved away another one or two people.
Some started fresh fights elsewhere.
Others returned to the original circle of violence.
Noticing that the Russian prison guards were finally preparing to move, Henry repeated the same old trick.
He crossed another item off his list.
Yuri Kuznetsov.
Still appearing to be the victim of a one-sided beating, Henry finally collapsed to the ground.
People stomped and kicked him mercilessly.
He curled into a ball, clutching his head.
No longer struggling to stand.
No longer fighting back.