After escaping the room, John mined a few more stones. When the time was up, he deposited his stones and pickaxe, heading toward his cell with a relieved expression. He never imagined his plan would succeed so smoothly.
"I truly got lucky today," John murmured as he approached his cell. But just as he was about to enter, a rough voice called from behind.
"Save your food from now on and give it all to me if you don't want me opening my mouth."
John frowned, a chill running down his spine as he turned. Behind him stood a middle-aged man with a bushy beard and long hair. Though thin like the other prisoners, his gaze was sharp, piercing John with intensity.
John's frown deepened. "You're trying to blackmail me?" he asked.
The man chuckled. "No, I'm just trying to survive. Without enough food, I'll die one day."
"So you'll steal my food and let me die instead?" John retorted, glancing around to confirm the corridor was empty since they were the last to arrive.
In a few minutes, Fatmaster would lock all the cells from outside.
"You'll die anyway when I tell Fatmaster you entered his room," the man said with a smirk. "Better to give me your food from now on. That way, you avoid Fatmaster's torture."
John narrowed his eyes. Hunger had drained all compassion from this man. Though John could survive without food by assimilating Qi, he refused to be blackmailed.
He knew giving in would lead to more demands, and he wanted no part of that.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed his racing thoughts, searching for a solution.
"What are you thinking? I'll count to three. If you don't agree, I'm going to Fatmaster," the man warned.
John met his gaze silently. A decisive glint flashed in his eyes.
"Sorry, you're mistaken. I didn't enter Fatmaster's room," he said.
"Don't mess around. If a cultivator investigates, they'll know someone was in there. Once I tell Fatmaster, you're as good as dead," the man pressed, unrelenting.
John shrugged, stepping back. "If you think so, go ahead and tell him." His expression was nonchalant.
The man's face twisted with anger at John's indifference.
"Fine, then. Get ready to die. Don't blame me later." He turned to leave.
As the man's back faced him, John moved decisively. His hands darted like a serpent, coiling around the man's neck. Before the man could struggle, John snapped his neck and hurried toward his cell.
His cell was a few hundred meters away, in a non-cell area flanked by rock walls where no one could see them. That was why John had taken the risk.
He reached his cell in no time, not sparing a glance at the body.
"Shit! I killed someone! But I had no choice!" John thought, vomiting in the toilet area as he entered his cell.
Images of twisting the man's neck replayed in his mind, but with his max-level breathing and meditation, he quickly regained clarity.
"I had no choice. If I'd left him alive and Fatmaster found evidence someone entered his room, that man would've ratted me out for a reward," John reasoned, nodding to himself.
Though his heart raced, he appeared calm outwardly.
"A commotion will erupt soon. I hope no one saw me kill him or enter Fatmaster's room," John thought, sitting on his straw mat.
The situation was out of his control now, so he could only wait.
He opened his panel before chaos engulfed the prison when Fatmaster discovered the body.
[Name: John Coral
Age: 23
Cultivation: None (4/100)
Upgrade Slot: Spatial Awareness (Level 1) (49/100) (Upgrading at one point per 10 minutes)
Skills: Meditation (Level 6 - Max), Breathing (Level 5 - Max), Spatial Awareness (Level 1)]
The Slow Toad Breathing Method still hadn't appeared on his panel.
"I need to practice it before it can auto-upgrade, but I can't now since Spatial Awareness will take days to complete," John thought. Though tempted to cultivate the Slow Toad Breathing Skill, he held off. Chaos could erupt any moment, and he didn't want anyone catching him practicing a martial technique.
"Better to train it at night," John decided, lying on his mat.
Soon, a commotion erupted. The jail bell rang loud and clear.
"Everyone, gather at the mining area in ten minutes! Anyone who fails to show up will be beaten to death!" Fatmaster's voice, amplified by his cultivation base, echoed through the prison.
John stood, sighing. "Time to see if I was cautious enough." He was confident no one had seen him enter Fatmaster's room or kill the man.
But he wasn't certain about when he exited the room. In his haste, he hadn't been careful, and though the chances of someone else seeing him were low, they weren't zero.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of his cell and calmly headed to the mining area.
He noticed the girl from before walking nearby. For the first time in days, she approached and spoke.
"Hey, what do you think is happening?" she asked, her tone as cold as ever.
John, with his max-level breathing and meditation keeping his emotions steady, showed no reaction.
"I don't know. Maybe they want us to mine more?" he whispered.
Her brows furrowed. "So they really want to kill us." Anger flashed across her face. Eight hours of mining was already grueling; more would be a death sentence.
"I'm just guessing," John said.
She snorted. "By the way, you haven't forgotten your promise, have you?"
"Don't worry," John replied plainly, falling silent as more prisoners filled the hallway.
She noticed and stopped talking, moving quietly toward the mining area.
John reached the spot where he'd killed the man and saw the body was gone. Looks like Fatmaster took it, he thought. It was the only plausible explanation.
Soon, they reached the mining area, where Fatmaster stood with two others. Their matching uniforms marked them as guards stationed outside the prison to prevent escapes.
From their respectful stance behind Fatmaster, John deduced they were less powerful than him.
"If I get strong enough to defeat Fatmaster, escaping those two would be easy," John thought, nodding. He stood silently in the crowd, waiting for Fatmaster to speak.
Fatmaster's furious expression intimidated everyone, even the guards. The prisoners were naturally terrified.
But John remained strangely calm, despite suspecting this might be his end. His high-level breathing and meditation kept him composed.
He stayed still in the middle of the group, his calm expression unnoticed.
After five minutes of silent glaring, Fatmaster's rage boiled over. He drew his baton.
"Come out, or I'll beat every one of you bastards to death!" he roared.
John stayed silent. After a few minutes of quiet, a smile formed on his face. So no one else saw me leave Fatmaster's room. Killing the man had paid off.
He was certain because if any prisoner had seen him, they would've spoken by now.
With everyone confused and silent, it confirmed no one had witnessed him.
"I just have to endure this and keep quiet to stay safe," John thought, taking a deep breath. He grew even calmer.
"No one's gonna speak, huh?!" Fatmaster's voice dripped with fury. He glanced at the guards. "Bring him," he muttered.
The guards nodded and stepped back, soon returning with the man's body.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as the body was thrown before them, its face upturned. Some prisoners at the front recoiled.
"Who killed him? This is your last chance. If I find out later, death won't be your punishment—it'll be worse!" Fatmaster threatened.
Silence persisted. No one knew who killed the man except John, and he wouldn't confess, even under torture.
Fatmaster's anger surged at the lack of response.
"Good… Good… Since no one's coming forward, work yourselves to death! From now on, you'll work twelve hours a day, and the minimum spirit stone quota will increase to eight!" he bellowed.
Gasps echoed as prisoners exchanged desperate glances, hoping the culprit would confess. No one did.
John felt a pang of guilt but had no choice. He didn't want to die. He wanted to escape and explore this world.
Where he once had no will to live, his auto-upgrade system now fueled his desire to discover this unique martial arts world.
Dying wasn't on his list—for now.
"Get to work! If I see anyone slacking, I'll deal with them personally!" Fatmaster shouted, slamming his baton on the table.
The crowd scattered to the mines. John followed suit.
The prisoners resumed work, exhausted from their prior eight-hour mining shift. Now, they faced an additional four hours and the daunting task of collecting three more spirit stones.
Even those who had gathered eight stones earlier were not exempt—this was today's special punishment.
Starting tomorrow, the new quota demanded eight spirit stones within twelve hours. The mere thought sent shivers through the crowd.
John on the other hand wasn't even a bit affected as he has his level five breathing that gave him enough energy to work for more than twelve hours and in that time he could also collect hundreds of spirit stones.
He just needed to stay low key and act as if he was tired too or it would put too much attention on him.
He was just feeling a bit guilty for the other people. Because of him they would have to work hard too.
His determination to kill Fatmaster increased even more.