Counterfeit Hero

Chapter 213: Volume 4 Chapter 9 Sleepwalking_2

Rex was just a small-time figure in Abnosk Prison, a henchman who followed others around. He was just lucky that the other prisoners in his cell were all skinny and weak, so he naturally became the king of the cell. No one dared to challenge him. When he beat up Fatty, the whole cell fell silent. Such a scene had a bit of a scare tactic behind it. Those who ruled by violence often displayed their cruelty to achieve deterrence. Whenever he got the chance, Rex enjoyed watching the other four prisoners tremble in fear. But having to do the physical work himself was less satisfying. After kicking Fatty hard again, Rex spat and said, ”Damn it, bad luck! Sending in this stupid fatass, no benefits at all!” He raised his head and waved, ”Doctor, get over here, tell this idiot the cell rules!”

A middle-aged man wearing glasses obediently walked up to Fatty, squatted down, and began reciting the cell rules to him. Clearly, these rules were set by Rex, a typical violence regime. Everyone had to wait until Rex finished eating before they could eat. When it was time to sleep, and Rex said to sleep, they must get into bed. Whatever items their relatives sent from outside had to be handed over to Rex for centralized management. During prison-arranged work, they had to take turns helping Rex with his assigned tasks... and so on, totaling fifty or sixty rules.

As the Doctor recited, Fatty nodded like a pecking chicken, looking at Rex with flattering eyes. He resembled a begging, tail-wagging dog, so lowly that it made people want to kick him to death for being a disgrace to humanity. Even so, Rex remained unmoved, coldly watching as the Doctor finished reciting the rules. After kicking the Doctor away, he shouted at Fatty, ”Did you hear it all?”

Fatty nodded and bowed hurriedly, ”I heard it clearly, I heard it clearly!”

Rex sneered, ”Well, if you had money when you got in here, you could live a few good days. The more money, the less suffering you’ll endure...” As he was speaking, a signal light in the prison room suddenly lit up. Rex jumped back onto his bed as if electrocuted. The others followed suit, all sitting quietly without daring to make a sound.

Seeing Fatty still dazed in the corner, Rex angrily yelled, ”Damn stupid fatass, get on your bed quickly! Don’t cause trouble for me!” Fatty, seemingly struck dumb, sat still in the corner, driving Rex to holler and curse. He wanted to get out of bed to drag Fatty but seemed apprehensive, ultimately not daring to move.

Within seconds, a series of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Several guards holding energy guns appeared at the cell door. They glanced coldly at the cell occupants, then suddenly aimed their guns at the still bewildered Fatty sitting in the corner. Next, a warden stepped in, glanced inside, and sneered at Rex, ”Teaching a newbie at this time? Rex, do your rules overrule ours?”

Rex’s face twitched, unable to speak. Just being looked at by the warden left him paralyzed, sweating profusely, and stammering helplessly before tightly sealing his lips. The warden sneered and motioned the guards to lower their guns, ”Forget it, I’m in a good mood today. If I find this fatass not sitting on his bed during the next meal count, Rex, I’ll beat him to death and let him rot with you! Then I’ll seal this cell and let you play out your rules with a corpse!” With another grunt, he led the guards to the opposite cell.

After they disappeared from the doorway, everyone in cell D2 let out a long sigh of relief. Rex jumped down and rushed to Fatty, kicking and stomping him while cursing, ”Damned pig! You almost got me killed!” Fatty protected his head and face with his arms, silently enduring the blows that were too light for him. Though Rex was tall and strong, in Fatty’s professional view, a chop from him would finish Rex easily.

Fatty simultaneously enjoyed Rex’s ”massage” while howling in pain. After a while, the sound of a cart approached from the doorway. Cursing, Rex stopped his assault, spat on the ground, and said, ”I’ll deal with you after I eat, you damned filthy pig!” He turned to walk to the cell door but didn’t see the anger hidden in Fatty’s eyes behind his arms. Losing his parents at six, the most unbearable insult was someone disrespecting them, even casually spoken words, which deeply cut Fatty.

Outside the cell door, like bars, two guards lazily followed an automatic cart. At each cell, they pressed a number, and the auto-cart would distribute the allocated meals with mechanical arms. Six meals were laid out in a row at the D2 cell door. Except for Rex, no one dared move. Fatty and the other four prisoners watched eagerly as Rex picked through the six meals. Finally, he carried a tray with the essence of all six meals back to his bed, allowing the others to gently pick up their portions.