Chapter 1: The Prison Cage Stained with Blood

  Darkness and dampness are the main tones of this eternal underground world.

  Water droplets slide down the rough rock face, striking a monotonous and disturbing rhythm in the dead silence, interwoven with the faint coughs from afar, like the gasping of a dying beast, and the dull sound of pickaxes hitting the rocks.

  The air was filled with an indescribable complex smell - rust, the stench of sweat, mold, cheap kerosene, and a faint, disgusting trace of blood and decay.

  This is the Black Stone Mine pit, a forgotten corner of the world, a bottomless abyss that devours life and hope.

  Yuansha curled up in the darkest corner, attempting to embed his emaciated body into the cold crevices of the rocks, as if in this way he could block out the ubiquitous coldness and malice.

  The prison uniform on his body was no longer visible in its original color. It was greasy and tattered, sticking tightly to the skin covered with cyanosis and unhealed scars. With every breath, it tugs at the old wound that aches faintly beneath the ribs.

  Hunger was like a gnawing maggot, constantly gnawing at his stomach, day and night, bringing waves of dizziness and weakness. But this is not the most terrifying.

  "Hey, Number 9527, raise your head."

  A rough and teasing voice broke the relative calm. Like a conditioned reflex, Yuan Sha's body gave a sudden jolt. Even faster than the order itself was the deep-seated fear.

  He slowly raised his head. Beneath his dirty and disheveled hair were a pair of numb eyes, yet some kind of dark fire was burning in the deepest part.

  Standing before him was one of the overseers of the mine pit, a burly man privately called "Scarface" by the prisoners. The hideous scar on his face stretched from his forehead all the way to his chin, wriggling like a twisted centipede as he grinned.

  In his hand, he was playing with a leather whip stained with dark red stains. Occasionally, the tip of the whip gently tapped the ground, making a terrifying "click" sound.

  Look at your behavior. You look like a wild dog on the verge of death. The scar-faced spat, which landed not far from Yuansha's feet. "How did the 'snack' I gave you yesterday taste?"

  Yuan Sha's lips quivered silently, and it seemed as if his throat was blocked by sand grains. He recalled yesterday - the "food" that had been forcibly pinned on his head and stuffed into his mouth, mixed with soil and unknown filth, as well as the subsequent severe vomiting and stomach cramps.

  What was even more unbearable for him was the unrestrained and cruel laughter of Scarface and several other overseers, like a cold iron cone, chiseled at his last remaining dignity bit by bit.

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  What? Mute? The scar-faced man impatiently prodded Yuansha's shoulder with the handle of his whip, hitting an old wound right in the middle. This made the young man draw in a sharp breath and curl up uncontrollably.

  "Back..." To My Lord... Taste... "Very good..." A voice as thin as a gnat squeezed out from between Yuan Sha's chapped lips. Each word seemed to have exhausted all his strength, as if tearing himself apart.

  He knew that resistance would only lead to more cruel torture, and compliance, even such humiliating compliance, was the only way to survive.

  The scar-faced person seemed quite satisfied with the effect and let out a low, creepy laugh: "You're pretty sensible." However, merely being good at saying nice things is not enough.

  His eyes shifted and he saw the newly scabbed whip mark on Yuan Sha's bare arm. It was a "reward" he had received a few days ago for his slightly slower movements.

  Have you forgotten the rules here? The wound requires' special 'care. The scar-faced man grinned maliciously and took out a small coarse salt bag from his waist, deliberately waving it in front of Yuan Sa.

  Fear, like a cold tide, instantly submerged the abyssal demon. He has witnessed this kind of "care". Watching the coarse salt grains being brutally kneaded into the bloody and mangled wound, and listening to the tortured person's shrill scream that didn't sound like a human voice, until the other person fainted due to the intense pain.

  That kind of pain that penetrates to the bone marrow, as if the soul is trembling, is enough to keep one awake at night just by observing.

  "No..." Don't... Almost instinctively, Yuansha shrank back, hugging himself tightly with both hands, and for the first time, a look almost pleading appeared in his eyes.

  "Oh?" You said no? Scar-faced seemed to have heard something extremely interesting, and the smile on his face became even more distorted. "Here, prisoners have no right to say 'no'." Your existence is just for us to have fun, understand?

  He approached step by step. The shadow of the coarse salt bag was elongated in the dim firelight, as if it were a monster that chose to devour people.

  Yuansha's heart was beating wildly, almost shattering his sternum. Despair was like a cold venomous snake, entwining his neck and suffocating him. Why? Why me in particular? Why is the world so unfair? Why can these people inflict pain without restraint?

  Intense hatred, like a surging underground river of resentment, was churning and roaring in the deepest part of his heart. He hated the scarred face, hated every overseer, hated this dark mine pit, and hated this cold and heartless world that threw him into hell! He even began to hate his own weakness, hating that even his courage to resist had been completely devoured by fear.

  The pain, an extreme agony, suddenly erupted with the action of rubbing coarse salt into the wound, like a red-hot soldering iron directly scalding the soul. Yuan Sha bit his lower lip tightly until he tasted the salty and fishy smell of his own blood, and only then did he manage not to let out a scream.

  But his distorted face in excruciating pain, the uncontrollable violent tremors, and the belt-like sobs that leaked from the depths of his throat had pleased the abuser.

  Scarface admired his masterpiece, casually threw the salt bag aside, and patted Yuansha's cheek with a hand smeared with salt grains and blood, with considerable force and an insulting tone: "Remember this feeling, crumbly." "Be quick next time, or there will be something more 'comfortable' waiting for you."

  Having said that, he turned around, with a contented humming sound, and paced towards the next "fun" destination.

  Yuansha curled up in place, his body shivering non-stop due to the intense pain and cold. The wound was burning hot, but what was even more intense and profound was the resentment that almost burned him to ashes. Deep in the numb eyes, that dark fire seemed to have been doused with a spoonful of boiling oil by this extreme pain and humiliation, suddenly surging up, jumping, and emitting an unprecedented, almost crazy light.

  He felt the pain within his body, the resentment and fear deep in his soul, and a strange feeling was faintly visible.

  It seems that these extreme negative emotions are not only tormenting him, but more like... Nourishing something unknown?