Lucian's weapons were gone.
The first cellmate lay crumpled on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring at nothing. Lucian barely had time to register his handiwork when he realized something was missing—the metal tray. It had vanished. The second cell mate must have taken it while he was choking the first.
Yes, he must have taken it and hidden it somewhere. Lucian thought to himself.
His eyes instinctively roamed around the cell, looking for where it could have potentially been hidden.
A low chuckle made him freeze.
In his alarm at the absence of his weapons, he had forgotten about the other cellmates waiting for him, watching him.
They on the other hand had not forgotten him at all.
When Lucian looked up, the second cell mate stood above him , a nasty grin splitting his face. His eyes gleamed with malice, and in his hand was the rag Lucian had planned to use.
The man smiled as he finished wrapping it around his hand.
He man was not as large as the first cellmate but he was quite muscular as well. His shoulders were broad, his were hands rough from a life of violence. He tilted his head as though mocking Lucian's situation.
"I didn't think I'd get the chance to deal with you myself," the man said, nodding to the lifeless body on the ground. "I figured he'd take care of you completely. But fate's funny like that, huh?
He smacked his lips. "It's been a long time since I had fresh meat to play with. I'm going to enjoy this."
Lucian's stomach tightened, but he kept his face blank. He didn't want to give this man the satisfaction of seeing fear.
Before Lucian could think of a plan, the man charged at him.
It happened faster than Lucian could process. A powerful hand wrapped around his neck, squeezing with brutal strength. His airway cut off instantly, and a sharp pain lanced through his throat and chest.
Lucian clawed at the hand, his nails digging into rough skin, but it was no use. The man's strength was overwhelming, like trying to fight against stone. He was pushed backward, his boots scraping against the cold concrete floor, until his back slammed into the wall.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The man pressed him there, pinning him with his weight.
Lucian's vision blurred, the edges of his sight tinged with shadows. His chest burned, desperate for air that wouldn't come. He felt his strength slipping away, his mind growing sluggish.
Then, like a whisper in the dark, the system came to life.
[Alert: You're losing consciousness.]
The words flashed in his mind, sharp and clear. It was enough to jolt Lucian's thoughts back into focus. Panic turned into cold calculation. He needed a way out. Now.
The answer came to him in a flash.
With every ounce of strength he had left, Lucian pushed his body to the side, twisting away from the man's crushing grip. The movement was sudden and unbalanced, throwing his attacker off.
Without Lucian's body to lean on, the man's momentum carried him forward. His eyes widened as he realized too late what was happening. He stumbled, his arms flailing, and his massive frame slammed into the wall headfirst with a sickening thud.
The impact dazed him, his body swaying like a tree about to fall. Blood trickled down his temple, but he didn't go down. He steadied himself, shaking his head as if to clear it, and lunged again.
But Lucian was faster.
He darted forward and grabbed the man's head with both hands. There was no hesitation. No mercy. Lucian slammed the man's skull into the wall.
Once.
The man grunted, his knees buckling.
Twice.
His body sagged, his resistance weakening.
Three times.
The sound was wet and awful, a crack that echoed in the small cell. Blood sprayed across the wall, warm and sticky on Lucian's hands.
The man went limp, his body sliding to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Lucian stood over him, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His chest heaved, and his heart pounded like a war drum in his ears. He wiped his bloodstained hands on his clothes, not caring about the mess.
The system chimed again.
[1 kill. +10 XP.]
He didn't even glance at the notification. His hands trembled as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He was still alive. Still standing. He had fought off the first two cellmates and was somehow in one piece.
But it wasn't over yet.
Lucian's eyes moved to the third man.
Unlike the others, this one wasn't big or muscular. In fact, he looked almost ordinary, with wiry limbs and a pale face. If strength alone determined the outcome, this fight should've been easy.
But something about him set Lucian's nerves on edge.
The third man hadn't moved during the chaos. He had stood silently, watching the violence unfold as though it were a play performed for his entertainment. Now, his dark eyes met Lucian's, and Lucian felt a cold chill run down his spine.
This one was different.
He had no visible weapons, no bulging muscles, and no snarling threats. But there was something in his gaze—a quiet intensity, a simmering danger. It was the look of someone who didn't need to boast or intimidate. Someone who didn't need to prove their strength because they already knew it.
Lucian swallowed hard, his throat sore from the earlier attack. This one's dangerous, he thought. More dangerous than the other two combined.
After all , how many saints ended up in prison, locked in the dangerous criminals section?
He tensed, ready for the fight to begin. The third man studied him for a long moment and they both sized each other up.
Then the man did something Lucian didn't in any way expect.
He raised his hands.
"I surrender!" he shouted.
Lucian blinked, his body frozen in surprise.
The words hung in the air, almost absurd in their simplicity.