The cement floor of the isolation cell was like ice. Pressed against his back, the cold crawled up Chen Rang's spine, drilling into every bone. He curled himself into a ball. The wounds on his arms from being dragged still oozed blood. The coarse fabric of his clothes scraped over the torn skin—painful and itchy, like ants gnawing bit by bit.
He stared at the one small window. Moonlight squeezed through it, casting a thin strip of light across the floor. It was light he could see, but never touch, as if blocked by glass. That light was just like his hope in this compound—always right in front of him, but never within reach.
In the darkness, only his own breath and heartbeat echoed. From afar came the occasional howl of wild dogs—shrill, sharp, like a rusted knife tearing apart the fragile calm he clung to. He thought of the photo on Black Wolf's office wall—Number 821 tied to an iron pole, wounds still bleeding, wild dogs in the distance staring with greedy eyes.
"You'll spend your whole life here, working until you can't anymore," Black Wolf's words replayed in his ears. Every syllable was a hammer blow, crushing his heart until he almost gave up. What was he anyway? Just prisoner Number 739. What good was resistance? What good was escape? Maybe he'd be the next one thrown to the dogs.
But just as he sank into despair, his fingers brushed the little note at his chest. His mother's handwriting. He had folded it into a small square, pressed against his heart. The paper's edges had softened from his body heat, but he could still feel the deep impressions of her pen strokes—*Mom will wait for you to come home.*
Those five words were like a fragile but stubborn light, piercing his inner darkness in an instant. His eyes flew open, tears almost spilling out. No. He couldn't give up. His mother was still waiting. That home filled with his childhood toys was still waiting. He couldn't let himself become just a disposable "tool." He couldn't let his mother keep waiting under the old locust tree for a son who would never return.
He didn't know how much time passed before soft footsteps came from outside. So light, like leaves falling—but in the silence of the hallway, each step was sharp. Chen's heart leapt to his throat. He held his breath, staring at the iron door.
Had Black Wolf sent someone to "discipline" him? Would it be the crackle of an electric baton—or the smash of an iron rod that could break bones? He shrank back into the corner instinctively, nails digging deep into his palms, the pain keeping him awake.
The footsteps stopped at the door. A key clicked in the lock. The sound was soft, yet pounded against his nerves. The door cracked open, a faint beam of light spilling in.
A familiar figure slipped inside—Number 618.
Chen froze. He never imagined it would be 618. The man who always kept his head down in the Main Group, who barely dared speak above a whisper—why was he here?
618 carried a steamed bun and a small bottle of water. He darted in quickly and shut the door behind him. Sweat dotted his forehead. His hands trembled slightly. He was clearly taking a huge risk.
"Don't talk. I can only stay three minutes. Patrol will be here soon." His voice was hushed, urgent, like racing against time.
Chen stared at the bun, throat tightening. His voice came out hoarse:
"Brother 618… why? Aren't you scared Black Wolf will find out?"
He took the bun. The warmth against his fingertips made his nose sting. In this place filled with cruelty and indifference, even this sliver of kindness felt priceless.
"Scared or not, I had to come." 618 shoved the water into his hands, eyes anxious.
"Black Wolf's handing you over to Khun Sa tomorrow morning. Do you know his rules? Anyone labeled an 'inside mole'—either their arms and legs get broken and they're thrown into hard labor, or they're fed straight to the dogs. Khun Sa's ten times more ruthless than Black Wolf. If you land in his hands, you're done."
"An inside mole?" Chen's chest sank. The bun nearly slipped from his hand. He clenched it tight, knuckles whitening from the force, rage and injustice boiling in his chest. He just wanted to escape. Just wanted to go home. How did that make him a "mole"?
"I didn't… I only wanted to run. I never sabotaged the compound."
"It's Black Wolf framing you." 618 crouched low, whispering almost into his ear.
"I overheard him on the phone. He said you 'stole core client data' and 'colluded with outsiders.' But the truth? He pocketed two hundred grand from last month's earnings. He's afraid you'll find out and report him, so he wants to use Khun Sa to get rid of you."
Pocketed earnings? Chen jolted. He remembered when he tweaked the reports—three transfers had gone to a strange account. He thought it was a glitch. Now he knew—it was Black Wolf's private account.
So this wasn't about his "escape attempt." He was just a scapegoat, covering Black Wolf's corruption.
A chill surged through him. The compound was darker than he'd thought. It wasn't just violence crushing the bottom level. Even at the top, there was scheming and betrayal.
"I can't help much," 618 whispered. From his pocket, he pulled a crumpled paper and shoved it into Chen's hand. A rough map, lines shaky and crooked, drawn in pencil.
"This is a backup route through the backhill. Not the one you knew—the private 'emergency passage' Black Wolf hides. The infrared code is six eights. I overheard it once while filing his papers. I made a copy of the cell key too—it's tucked in the brick seam behind the door. You have to run tonight. At three a.m., the guards switch shifts. You'll have a ten-minute window. Miss it, and you're finished."
Chen's fingers shook as he clutched the paper. He looked up at 618, gratitude and confusion burning in his eyes.
"Brother 618, why help me? We barely know each other. Aren't you afraid I'll drag you down?"
618's eyes dimmed. His voice caught with grief and rage. He turned his head, hiding his face.
"My son. Xiaoyu. About your age. Last year, he was tricked here too—put in the Main Group. Three months ago, he found out Black Wolf was pocketing earnings. He wanted to tell Khun Sa. Black Wolf caught him. Threw him to the dogs." His voice broke. He wiped his eyes, jaw clenched, fury shaking his words.
"I'm helping you partly for revenge. And partly to gamble. You don't look like someone who accepts being trampled. If you live, maybe you can help more people like us. If you make it out… Forget it. Just focus on yourself first."
Tears finally spilled down Chen's face. He nodded hard, gripping the map like a lifeline.
"Brother 618, I swear, I won't waste your help. If I survive, I'll expose Black Wolf. I'll avenge Xiaoyu."
For the first time, his thoughts weren't just about escape. He now carried revenge—and a mission to help others. He couldn't just think of himself anymore.
"No more talking. I have to go." 618 stood, casting wary glances at the hall.
"Remember—the passage doesn't lead out. It circles into Khun Sa's villa area. Guard's lighter there. Hide in a storeroom until morning, then figure your next move. Don't head toward the river—it's all Black Wolf's men."
He slipped out like a shadow.
Chen stared at the bun and the map in his hand. He devoured the bun, dry and rough, scraping his throat. But he ate fast, even scooping up crumbs from the floor. He hadn't eaten in a day. He needed the strength to run. With each bite, his resolve hardened.
He would escape. He would avenge Xiaoyu. He would fulfill 618's hope.
At 2:50 a.m., Chen crept to the door, found the spare key hidden in the brick seam. Cold against his fingers, trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, slid it into the lock, and turned. *Click.*
The hallway was empty. Only the red surveillance light blinked, unblinking. He pressed against the wall, moving in silence, following 618's map toward the backhill.
Every step felt like walking on knives. Stones bit his feet, but he didn't slow. If he hesitated, he'd lose his nerve.
At the stairwell, voices drifted up—Black Wolf's, and another man's, deep and harsh. Chen recognized him: Ah Bao, Khun Sa's personal bodyguard.
"You pocketed two hundred grand and tried to pin it on a newbie? Boss Khun Sa already knows. You're done," Ah Bao snapped. His voice carried unquestionable authority.
"Me? Pocket money? Where's your proof?" Black Wolf's voice trembled, but he still tried to bluff.
"It was 739 who stole the data. I was just protecting the group! Ah Bao, we've known each other for years—don't side with an outsider!"
Hope surged in Chen's chest. Black Wolf's scheme had been exposed! He seized the chance, darting down the stairs, racing toward the backhill.
The night there was pitch dark, only moonlight lighting his path. Branches lashed his face, leaving burning cuts. He felt nothing. Only one thought screamed: *Run. Run. Run to safety.*
Following the map, he found the "emergency passage." Hidden behind a massive rock, disguised as an old drainage pipe. The infrared sensor glowed red like watchful eyes.
He pulled out the foil, pressed it over the sensor, then punched in the code: 888888.
*Beep.* The red light turned green. The door slid open, revealing a black tunnel.
His heart leapt. He ducked inside. The air was damp, thick with earth. He groped forward, clutching his mother's note, whispering:
"Mom, just wait. I'm almost out. I'll see you soon."
He didn't know how long he walked before a glow appeared ahead. He rushed toward it, bursting out—only to freeze.
It wasn't the villa district.
It was an open clearing. In the center stood a group of men in black suits. At their head—Khun Sa himself.
Black Wolf was there too, pinned to the ground by two guards, pale as death. His eyes lit up when he saw Chen, like a drowning man spotting driftwood.
"Boss! It's him! He stole the data! Tried to run!"
Chen's heart shot into his throat. He spun to flee, but two guards blocked him, gripping his arms.
"It wasn't me! Black Wolf pocketed the money and framed me!" Chen shouted, his voice hoarse, tears spilling. He had thought he'd found hope—but stepped right into another trap. Was he going to end up like 821, fed to the dogs? His mother was still waiting. He couldn't die here.
Khun Sa stayed silent, eyes sharp as an eagle's, scanning Chen like he could peel his soul apart. His hair was streaked white, but his spirit was fierce. A cane rested in his hand, a gemstone gleaming coldly at its tip.
After a long pause, his voice rumbled low, heavy with authority:
"You claim Black Wolf pocketed earnings. Do you have proof?"
Chen's chest tightened. Proof—he had none. Was this really the end?
Just then, 618 stepped from the crowd. A paper in his hand. His voice shook, but it rang clear:
"Boss, I have proof! Here are Black Wolf's transfer records. I copied them secretly. And I have a recording of him framing 739!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even Black Wolf froze. His eyes bulged.
"618! You dare betray me!"
Khun Sa took the papers, glanced over them, then motioned for the recording to play.
Black Wolf's voice echoed, unmistakable:
"Blame 739 as a mole. Let Khun Sa handle him. Then no one will know I pocketed the earnings…"
Black Wolf's face drained white. His body collapsed limp on the ground.
Khun Sa sneered. Waved his hand.
"Take him. Handle it by the rules."
Two guards dragged Black Wolf off. He thrashed, screaming—but was pinned down tight. His cries faded into hopeless wails.
Khun Sa turned to Chen, gaze softening slightly.
"You're 739?"
"Yes… but I have a name. My name is Chen Rang." He straightened, forcing himself to meet Khun Sa's eyes. This was his one chance. He couldn't cower. He wasn't just a number. He was Chen Rang. A man with a name. With dignity.
Khun Sa blinked, then smiled faintly. He patted Chen's shoulder.
"Good. Chen Rang. You're smart. You're brave. Black Wolf's seat is empty now. From today, you're the Main Group's leader. You'll handle the core clients."
Chen froze. He couldn't believe it. He had expected release—or punishment. Not promotion. To the very position he had once feared most. Shock, suspicion, excitement—all tangled inside him.
He knew Khun Sa wasn't being "kind." He just needed someone capable and obedient to replace Black Wolf. And Chen happened to fit.
"What? You don't want it?" Khun Sa arched a brow.
"No… I'll do it!" Chen nodded fast, equal parts thrilled and terrified. He knew this wasn't the end. It was a new beginning.
He wasn't just Number 739 anymore. He was Chen Rang, leader of the Main Group. Still trapped in hell, but now with a hand closer to the core of power. Now with the chance to build strength.
618 slipped close, whispering:
"This is your chance to get near Khun Sa. Your chance to live. Don't waste it."
Chen looked at him, nodding firmly. He touched the note at his chest. His mother's handwriting whispered to him: *Live. Not just for yourself. For others like 618. For Xiaoyu.*
His despair hardened into resolve. Before, he only wanted escape. Now, he wanted revenge. Justice. To take others with him when he left.
Khun Sa turned, walking back toward the villas. His cane tapped the ground with weight.
"Come to my office tomorrow. I'll assign you tasks. Remember—in my world, only the capable survive. The useless end like Black Wolf."
Chen stared after him, eyes burning with determination.
This was the start of his rise. The "mid-game"—where he would wield both opportunity and danger.
Moonlight bathed him. No longer cold, but strengthening. His shadow stretched across the clearing, steady as a weed breaking through stone, finally growing upward.
In the distance, the wild dogs still howled. But he no longer feared them.
Because he was no longer prey.
He was ready to stir this darkness.
In his heart, a blueprint formed—of revenge, of redemption, of home.