Shattered Lake Prison cafeteria.
Perhaps because he arrived unusually early today, Ash found the cafeteria packed with inmates having breakfast. A closer look left him wide-eyed in amazement. Aside from humans, beastmen, and goblins, the prison held many other species, some crawling on the ground, others with two horns or four arms...
Ash even saw a particularly sensual-looking woman, with hooves and fluffy ears, exposing much of her body. He couldn't determine her race, prompting a deep interest in this world's health industry and some peculiar fantasies.
He wasn't into furries, but...
The cafeteria aunt's soul-searching question snapped Ash's gaze back.
Ash randomly ordered a few filling portions and noticed a unique dish at the window labeled "one per person," which looked particularly enticing.
"Auntie, what is this?"
"Royal Seafood Lala Fat, seasonal delicacy, very limited supply," said the auntie. "If you're any later, it will be gone."
"Alright, give me..."
"Give me five pieces!"
A loud, muffled shout interrupted Ash's words. He turned to see a green-skinned beastman getting food. The auntie opposite took all five remaining portions of the seafood lala fat and dumped them into its gigantic bowl upon hearing.
"What? How can it take five portions?"
"It's a beastman," the auntie said matter-of-factly.
"Why can beastmen take five portions?"
"Beastmen can just take five portions, always been that way."
"It took five portions, so there's none for me—"
Ash's words suddenly got stuck in his throat, as a Light Screen popped up, filling his vision with a series of red warnings:
"Warning: You are attempting to express racially discriminatory remarks! This is prohibited! In the Kingdom of Blood Moon, racial equality is the first principle! Please be mindful!"
Me saying beastmen eat too much counts as racial discrimination!?
Ash gloomily took his tray and searched for a seat, finding the place fully packed. After much effort, he found an empty spot but discovered a blue-skinned monster with a particularly large butt sitting beside it, looking fiercer than the beastman and taking up two spaces.
If it were his past life, Ash would have turned and left, but this was Shattered Lake Prison, where the other party couldn't physically assault him, so Ash confidently walked over.
"Hey, you're taking up two spots. Move over."
The blue-skinned monster, eating with its hands, glanced at him, then lowered its head to continue eating.
"Oh, and? You can't take up two spots even if you're an ogre—"
"Warning: You are attempting to express racially discriminatory remarks! This is prohibited! In the Kingdom of Blood Moon, racial equality is the first principle! Please be mindful!"
Saying your butt takes up two seats counts as racial discrimination?
Ash felt like swearing but couldn't, as his words were blocked in his throat. He wanted to dump the tray over, but he couldn't, as his hand remained stuck.
Under the control of the chip at the back of their necks, every prisoner was the most loyal follower of the law. They had maximum freedom when not violating any moral or legal issues, but any attempt to breach these boundaries, even with a single word or look, would see them tightly shackled.
Suddenly, a hand tapped his shoulder. A burly man nearby lifted his tray and stood up, signaling for Ash to sit there.
Ash thanked him and found the man familiar, seemingly someone he saw in the Death Battle Society yesterday.
"Desmond," he introduced himself, giving a disgusted glance at the ogre and goblin at the table. "I'm heading to the Death Battle Society. Join me for a round sometime."
The surrounding people glanced at them upon hearing "Death Battle Society," scooting their seats away slightly. Ash sat down, listening to the ogre's chewing noise like a tractor and the goblin across scattering crumbs everywhere, stirring a strong desire to escape from within him.
This wasn't like escaping because he knew staying would mean death; he wanted to flee because he hated the environment.
The last time he felt this was during an internship under a dim-witted boss. If a colleague was the fool, he could retaliate or maneuver; if the boss was the fool, enduring was the only option without even verbal protest possible.
He could put up with hardship because enduring meant a future without endurance.
But if the boss was a fool, that meant endless endurance, making work pointless. Why work overtime anywhere else if you could just leave and find a more agreeable boss?
The current situation was way worse than a foolish boss—the entire environment was foolish.
You were seething, yet you couldn't say anything; you wanted to fight back, but your body wouldn't obey.
Ash suddenly had an epiphany.
He once thought Shattered Lake Prison truly treated its prisoners well.
But in reality, by confining a group of God-Hated and Ghost-Despised death row inmates together, allowing no transgressions between them, forcing them to create value for the prison to escape the Blood Moon Judgement, was essentially a form of psychological slicing.
Extinguishing their anger.
Shattering their hopes.
Eliminating their courage.
Destroying their spirit.
Sowing seeds of despair, frustration, regret, fear, etc., within them, letting them grow until they became mere skeletons, mentally collapsing, appearing at the Blood Moon Judgement as 'perfect perpetrators,' welcoming their deserved tragic fate.
Ash now understood why so many joined the Death Battle Society.
It was the only place for death row prisoners to vent, the only place providing a whiff of fresh air in this prison.
It was equivalent to a garbage dump.
Ironically, it was Ash, someone unable to tolerate the environment, who was the garbage. It was these death row inmates who could leisurely enjoy their time here; they were the model prisoners.
Finishing his meal quickly, Ash hurried to the place meant for garbage.
No death matches were ongoing in the Death Battle Society. It was bright inside, and Ash saw Lanna lying in her boyfriend's arms from afar.
Was it an illusion, or did her boyfriend look thinner than yesterday?
No way... was Lanna actually the draining type?
"Ash." Lanna raised her hand to greet him, saying, "You're early, just finished breakfast? Want to do some digestion before Valcas arrives?"
Ash nodded, finding a place to sit. Someone immediately joined him.
Ash glanced over at Igula, a trace of caution in his eyes.
Igula raised an eyebrow, "No need to be tense. I'm not interested in challenging you to a death match—I won't participate in any battle I lack confidence in, and I won't waste time on meaningless things like pride. I accept my loss, wholeheartedly."
"You're too cunning to trust for this kind of strategic play," Ash replied.
"Then let's skip unnecessary foreplay and jump straight to humanity's oldest interaction—"
"Trading, trading!" Igula enunciated each word precisely as if trying to make them bleed. "You answer one of my questions, and I'll answer one of yours."
"I don't have any questions for you."
"Really? Aren't you curious why that elf Valcas challenged you?"
Ash was slightly surprised internally but maintained a neutral expression.
"Well, I'm a bit curious, but how do I know you won't lie?"
"I also don't know if you will lie to me," Igula laughed. "We both take the same risk."
"Then what's the point of this trade?"
"Because I believe I can tell if you're lying, and even if you do, I can guess the truth. Similarly, you can—"
"I can't," Ash shook his head. "I didn't study much; you're sure to deceive me."
Igula was taken aback, seemingly facing someone with such self-awareness for the first time.
After a moment of silence, he said helplessly, "Then I'll directly tell you the information, and you can judge its value. If it's valuable, answer my question. Agreed?"
The tone was as begrudging as someone from Sichuan agreeing to a divided hotpot... Ash pondered for a moment, feeling there was no risk of being taken advantage of, and nodded.
"Valcas Uer was once a researcher at Kaimon University, imprisoned for stealing important patent technology, privately raising children, and murdering a colleague. Due to his elf status, he's the only prisoner who hasn't participated in a Blood Moon Judgement since his incarceration. He's been in prison for five years without partaking in a single judgement."
Ash gasped, remembering Lanna mentioning that every death row inmate must participate in their first Blood Moon Judgement, a rite of passage before they could create value in Shattered Lake Prison. Those who failed had only the fate of becoming fertilizer.
"Why was he able to escape the Blood Moon Judgement? Because he's an elf? Isn't racial equality the primary principle in the Kingdom of Blood Moon?"
"Racial equality is indeed the primary principle."
Igula wore a mysteriously elusive smile.
"But some races are more equal than others."
Equality is indeed a horizon—it exists everywhere, yet it can never be reached... Ash didn't feel much of a sense of lament; his limited time here meant he didn't fully understand how 'racial equality' was enforced.
"Why did he challenge me?"
"That ties to the crimes he committed. While stealing patent rights and murder are serious crimes, they wouldn't have sent him to Shattered Lake Prison. The offense that truly enraged the elite was his private raising of children!"
Ash was utterly bewildered.
"Why is privately raising children the most severe crime?"
"Because it's forbidden; no one can privately raise children."
Ash felt increasingly confused.
"No one raises children, then you... how did we grow up?"
"We all grew up in orphanages," Igula frowned deeply. "Socialized upbringing is a fundamental policy in the Kingdom of Blood Moon. Are you deliberately causing trouble with such questions?"
Socialized upbringing?
Ash tried to comprehend this unfamiliar term. "You mean we were raised by the state, and every individual is..."
He wanted to say "an orphan," but the words got stuck in his throat.
This time it wasn't the chip stopping him.
It was because Ash couldn't find the words.
He searched desperately through Heath's mind, only to find that Heath's native language didn't even include words like "father" or "mother"! The only remotely related term was "guardian"!
No stronger evidence was needed.
The absence of words like "parents" proved there were no such roles in the Kingdom of Blood Moon's social relations!
Wait a minute—socialized upbringing of orphans and the neck chip controlling everyone's words and actions...
Ash suddenly felt a twinge of fear towards the outside world beyond the prison.
What kind of world have I traversed into?