"I'll handle this," Ansel said, snatching the dagger from Miles's hand. He pressed the blade against one of the supervisors' thighs, a cruel grin spreading across his face. "You've bullied me enough, haven't you? Time to see how it feels."
With that, he drove the blade deep into the man's leg.
"Mmpphh!"
The supervisor's eyes bulged as he tried to scream, but Isaac's vice-like grip on his shoulders kept him immobilized. His muffled cries of pain were swallowed by the oppressive silence of the room.
"Speak, or I'll keep going."
Thwack!
Ansel stabbed again, his movements merciless. Blood pooled beneath the supervisor, his sweat-drenched face contorting in agony.
"Ughh…" One of the men whimpered through his gag, trying to indicate he was willing to talk.
Miles crouched down, his voice calm yet chilling. "Answer my question, and you'll live. Make a sound I don't like, and the next stab won't be in your leg."
The supervisor frantically nodded. Miles yanked the cloth from his mouth. "There's a man named Ryan. He was brought in yesterday. Where is he?"
"I—I don't know!" the man stammered.
Miles shoved the gag back into his mouth and motioned to Ansel. "Keep going."
Thud. Thud.
The dagger plunged again and again, painting the room red. The second supervisor convulsed in his bindings, tears streaking his pale face.
Finally, the first man's head jerked forward, his muffled pleas urgent. Miles pulled the gag free once more. "Ryan. Where is he?"
"I swear, I don't know!" the man cried, terror etched into his every word.
"Still lying, huh?" Ansel sneered, readying the dagger.
"Wait! Wait!" the man begged, his voice cracking. "Ansel, we have no grudge! If you want to escape, I won't stop you, but please—don't stab me again!"
"No grudge?" Ansel's voice turned icy. "Who killed Bryan? You bastards didn't even spare an old man!"
The supervisor's eyes flickered, his lips trembling. "He—he failed to meet the quota. It was a punishment from above!"
"Don't give me that crap!" Ansel snarled, kicking him hard in the face. "You wanted his golden Buddha necklace. He even gave it to you, but you killed him anyway!"
"I…" The supervisor choked, his head lowering in defeat. "I was wrong. I'm a monster. Please, just spare me!"
"Your sins are beyond forgiveness," Ansel whispered.
With a swift motion, the dagger flashed across the man's throat. A thin red line appeared before blood sprayed forth, splattering Ansel's face. He didn't flinch, simply wiping the blade clean as he turned to the second man.
"He can't talk anymore. What about you?"
The remaining supervisor was already trembling. He nodded furiously, signaling he was ready to cooperate. Ansel removed his gag.
"I didn't kill Bryan! I've never wronged you, Ansel. We have no quarrel!" the man stammered.
"No quarrel," Ansel agreed, smiling faintly. "Then answer the question. Where's Ryan?"
"Ryan? Who the hell is Ryan?" the man wailed, his voice breaking. "I swear, I've never heard that name before! If I'm lying, may my whole family die horribly!"
Miles's voice was as cold as the dagger. "Yesterday, someone was brought in from outside. Where did they take him?"
"Yesterday?" The supervisor frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. After a pause, he shook his head. "I didn't hear about anyone new. But a few days ago, one of our squads was ambushed. They lost everyone, and a few workers escaped."
That must have been the group Miles and Ryan had encountered earlier.
"You're sure?" Miles pressed.
"Positive," the man replied quickly.
Ansel, unimpressed, raised the dagger again.
"Wait!" the man shouted, eyes wide with panic. "Yesterday, Aaron—the leader of Squad Nine—took a team out to search for those missing workers. Ryan might be with him!"
Isaac looked at Miles, his expression dark. "If that's true, then Ryan wasn't caught by chance. They were after us."
Miles nodded. "Where's Aaron now?"
"In Rest Area Five," the supervisor said without hesitation. "Take the right corridor for twenty meters, then turn left. It's the third door."
"Good," Miles said.
Ansel smirked darkly. "You know the rules, right?"
The supervisor's face fell, but he nodded, teeth clenched. With a grunt, he hurled his head backward, slamming it into the wall. The impact rendered him unconscious.
"Smart choice," Ansel muttered, shoving the gag back in place and tightening the ropes.
As they slipped out of the room, Miles glanced at Ansel, chuckling softly. "You've got quite the edge, don't you?"
"Me?" Ansel grinned, gesturing to himself. "This place forces you to be ruthless. If you're soft, you'll starve—or worse. They'll work you to death and take everything from you."
In this harsh new world, only the strong survived. Without power, you became prey to those who had it.
"What did you do before this?" Miles asked.
"Earth's greatest warrior," Ansel replied dramatically.
"Huh?"
"I mean I was a petty thug. Robbery, extortion, shaking down middle schoolers outside their schools. You name it."
Miles burst into laughter. "Don't disgrace actual gangsters with that nonsense!"
The trio navigated the labyrinth of corridors, eventually reaching Rest Area Five. But the room was empty.
"They might be out working," Ansel said, frowning. "Should we wait?"
Miles smacked the back of his head. "Wait for what? This isn't a social visit!"
"So, what now?"
Before they could decide, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.
Click. Clack. Click.
"High heels," Miles and Ansel muttered in unison, their heads snapping up.
Isaac stared at them, bewildered. "How do you even recognize that?"
Miles grinned. "Experience."
He crept to the door and crouched, waiting. A woman wearing high heels in a laborer's zone? She was bound to be important—and likely held valuable information.
The footsteps stopped just outside the door. Miles's heart raced. Perfect. A gift, wrapped and delivered.