Chapter 77

Chapter 77

"Bring six bottles of Vodka here, it's on me!"

"Get me a huge platter of lobster ravioli, I'll pay with contribution points!"

"A round of ale for everyone, this one's on me 'Black Beast' Tuck!"

It was noontime, the registration point had been cleared away and volunteer recruitment was over.

The cafeteria was lively, the condemned prisoners who had been selected hurried to spend their contribution points on feasting and drinking. These villains who had committed all kinds of misdeeds were even voluntarily buying drinks and sharing joy. After all, as volunteers they would either get out of prison alive or disappear without a trace, so their contribution points were useless anyway - of course they had to spend it all quickly.

The most tragic thing in life is when someone dies with money still left unspent.

And even more tragic is having money left unspent, but desperately wanting to die.

Ronald Wade was the latter.

He looked at the sumptuous food in front of him. His stomach was hungry but he had no appetite at all.

The cafeteria server brought over the chilled ale that 'Black Beast' Tuck had bought for everyone. Ronald had not touched any alcohol for many days, though he used to drink like water every day before being jailed. Having taken a sip of the ale, what should have been a refreshing drink to his parched throat tasted like water with a hint of bitterness.

Boring.

Everything was boring.

Being jailed was boring, living was boring, even masturbation was boring. The only thing now that could make Ronald's pituitary gland send strong signals, the only thing that could make him feel alive, was -

"Woo woo!"

Ronald suddenly plunged his face into the food, frantically shoving it into his mouth with his hands. He chewed vigorously, his teeth gnashing back and forth to tear apart the tendons in the meat slices, as if only this could make him temporarily forget that kind of nauseating yet irresistible primal craving!

"Quite an appetite you've got there. Though you look pretty thin, do you normally work out?"

Ronald looked up to see two infamous personalities of the prison - no need to introduce Igor of course, skilled at financially devastating new inmates through contracted spirits, while also being an information broker in the prison.

Langna had told him on the very first day to be extremely wary of anything Igor said, that he'd never know when he might unknowingly enter into an unfair contract with Igor.

Having been jailed only a short while, Ronald had yet to witness Igor's vicious side, and thus did not have much guard up against him. The other infamous figure, 'Warlock' Ashe, left an even deeper impression - defeating Igor first, then overcoming Valcas, surviving the Blood Moon Tribunal from a nearly doomed predicament.

To Ronald, Ashe seemed fated for defeat every time, yet somehow he kept winning.

From not being able to fight at all to knocking Igor out with one punch, from not knowing how to use a sword to stabbing through Valcas' throat, in the Blood Moon Tribunal Valcas clearly wanted to bring him along to meet the Blood Moon Sovereign, yet somehow his head remained intact...

If this had happened outside, Ronald would surely feel like he was witnessing the birth of a new legend.

What a pity this was Shattered Lake Prison.

Ronald was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. "As long as I don't die, my body can recover. Although it shortens my lifespan in the long run, without contribution points I might not even make it past the next Tribunal."

Igor laughed. "Yes, if the 'deal terms' were only this, then it would be quite a bargain. Even I would be tempted."

"What do you mean?"

"Surely you understand better than me right? After all I just pieced together Langna's true motives from collecting intel on his previous 'friends'. But you were the sacrificial offering experiencing the ritual itself. You must have felt the real nature behind this deal already no? Otherwise you wouldn't be so eager to become a volunteer and escape from Langna."

Ronald's pupils dilated. "Ritual? What ritual?"

The corners of Igor's mouth curved up slightly - revealing the truth to victims like this was one of his favorite criminal activities. If possible, he'd love telling every fool he had scammed about his deceptive schemes.

"Do you honestly think Langna made such demands out of mere whimsy? And you must feel it—Langna doesn’t treat you as an object, tool, or stranger. He truly loves you... with all his heart, without any reservation."

Ronat's face paled further, his hand trembling slightly as it clutched a steak.

It might sound ludicrous. Langna had taken advantage of situations to threaten Ronat and force him to comply. Each time they fought, Langna treated him like a piece of rib to be savored. From any angle, it looked like Langna simply regarded him as a slave, at his beck and call.

If it were really that way, Ronat would feel somewhat relieved because that's a dynamic he could understand.

Yet, he felt that Langna’s feelings were genuine!

Ronat wasn’t some lone assassin; he'd been in love before and knew what love felt like.

That’s why he was so terrified—every look, every move from Langna, all revealed pure sincerity. Even when Langna ate, there was no hint of malice in his eyes! A profound love combined with feasting; Langna seemed to achieve a perfect harmony between the two, as if they coexisted effortlessly.

Ronat had always been afraid to think deeply about it, but now that Igor brought it to light, he was forced to confront this harrowing truth! He swallowed hard and asked hesitantly, "What... what kind of ceremony is this?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I only know the fate of the sacrificial offerings in the ceremony," Igor replied. "All of Langna's previous 'close friends' died in their own bedrooms, without exception."

Ronald's face turned pale, "How is that possible!? How could they have died in their dorm rooms?"

Ashe also realized - unless in the deathmatch arena zones, chips prohibited condemned prisoners from self-harm and suicide! If a prisoner starved himself, the prison would notify the guards to force feed when his body reached a critical point! Therefore it was impossible for a condemned to die in his dorm room, unless from old age!

But Langna was obviously not a twilight romance enthusiast.

"It's said there were no anomalies in their bodies, everything seemed normal, but all organs and tissues had ceased functioning." Igor speared a strawberry on the cake with his fork, "As if...their souls had suddenly vanished, so their bodies shut down immediately after."

Ronald's face turned as white as paper, his lips quivering uncontrollably.

Igor stabbed in the final blow.

"Now you must be disinterested in everything, except looking forward to Langna's ritual right? Even if you have enough contribution points already, you'd still accept his deathmatch invites... Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because only in the ritual can your soul obtain a moment of wholeness - your incomplete soul is already impatient to escape your body."