Chapter 15 – The Panopticon V

0416 followed Officer A to the fifth floor of the Central Tower. This was the third round of talks. He was the first to arrive, and only Officer C was in the meeting room. Unlike the previous two sessions, this time there were seven chairs arranged in the room.

It seemed three people had been eliminated—no, he corrected himself—they were safe now.

He sat down one seat away from C, appearing bored but actually feeling extremely anxious. Officer B must have noticed his special relationship with 0933. What would he think? First, he might suspect 0933’s identity. Second, he might suspect him. But neither possibility had any direct evidence. At the same time, 0777—the most suspicious “Convert”—was still here. At the very least, the situation wouldn’t be overturned for now.

0416 was certain that Officer B’s current priority was to expose The Elder. After all, he had suffered so much back then… The only thing he needed to worry about now was Officer B’s jealousy toward 0933. Would he be jealous? An officer only wanted someone to relieve his loneliness during idle moments. How much interest would he have in that person’s loyalty?

As he was thinking, he lowered his head and spotted a small object by his feet—something he and every prisoner in this prison were all too familiar with. But seeing it here was shocking.

A cleaning capsule. The size of a soybean, two were rationed daily for oral hygiene. Its surface was made of high-fiber material, resistant to pressure up to 85 kilograms, with a saliva-enzyme dissolution mechanism—meaning it would only break when held in the mouth. Stepping on it wouldn’t do anything. This one… had a prisoner dropped it?

He didn’t dare act rashly, not with Officer C beside him and surveillance all around. Pretending to stretch his back, he bent down to examine the capsule. It couldn’t have been dropped accidentally—it must have been deliberately brought from a cell and left here. The room had just been rearranged, meaning it didn’t belong to any of the seven of them. In other words…

Click. The door opened. Officer A led 0777 in, pointed to the seat between 0416 and C, then turned and left.

They weren’t the only group participating in this so-called “study session”! 0416 was stunned. Of course—the Panopticon had so many prisoners. How could there only be seven people active at the same time? Officer B might have other suspects, and the person rubbing against his thigh at night might not be the only one. With at least two AIs—Officers A and C—conducting a sample check on a three-digit number of prisoners wasn’t difficult.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” 0777 leaned back in his chair, taunting. “Looking like a dumbass.”

0416 had no desire to engage with him. His gaze drifted past him to Officer C—lifelike, with hair and skin made of expensive biomimetic materials. He began to wonder: which of the people around him were real, and which were machines? Was 0933 even his Listener at all? Among dozens or even hundreds of samples, had they just coincidentally been assigned to the same group?

The third to arrive was the fake Thief, followed by 0933. Officer A sat beside C, then these two. 0416 glanced at the empty seat to his right—that was for Officer B.

But Officer B was late. Officer A flipped open his notebook, about to begin: “This is our third meeting. Next—”

0777 raised his hand. “What about the other three?”

Officer A stared at him, about to speak, when the door was pushed open from the outside. Officer B, fastening the last button of his uniform, arrived late. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, walking straight to the empty seat. He reeked of old cologne, his hair slicked back, his armband crisp as if freshly ironed, and that silver ring on his finger glinting dazzlingly. “The scope of the discussion has narrowed,” he said, answering 0777. “Let’s begin.”

Seven people in total—three officers and four prisoners. It was practically one-on-one surveillance.

“Today,” Officer A began in a high-pitched tone, “we’ll get to the heart of the matter.” He smirked. “One of you, within the dozens of hours before joining this study group,” he paused, scanning everyone, “played as The Elder.”

In that instant, the four prisoners each reacted differently. 0416 remained eerily calm. 0777 looked confused. 0933 was surprised—and beneath that surprise, there seemed to be something else. Only The Thief frowned, utterly bewildered.

“Who was it?” Officer A lowered his voice. “Stand up.”

Everyone exchanged glances. 0777 was the first to speak: “The character selection screen… didn’t even have The Elder as an option. I always thought he was an NPC!”

The Thief followed up, asking something absurd: “The Elder… who’s that?”

The two “Converts” among the four had made their stance clear. Regardless of what they said, the message was the same: they weren’t The Elder.

Officer A shifted his gaze. “Let’s hear from the Listeners too.” He looked at 0933 first. “Think back. During that time, which roles did you play?”

“Listener, or resting,” 0933 answered frankly, without any pretense. “I never thought about playing as The Elder. If I had…” He hesitated. “I would’ve played him.”

“Why?” Officer A glanced up from his notebook.

“Then I’d know…” He paused again before continuing. “I’d know the answer to the game’s mystery—where The Listener’s missions come from.”

A very convincing answer. Officer A had no choice but to mark a period in his notes. “0416, you speak too.” This time, he cleverly altered the question. “Who among the four of you do you think it is?”

He was being asked to throw someone else under the bus. 0416 sneered inwardly—he wouldn’t be the officers’ pawn. “Before… I heard from an officer that this person had played as a Convert.”

His words carried credibility. Everyone knew he had been used by the officers to fish for information. By pointing to The Convert now, he wasn’t so much framing someone as he was providing insider intel.

0777 laughed. “There’s only one fucking Convert here—me.” He turned to glare at 0416, his expression not one of hatred but of probing. “What are you implying?”

0416 didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at Officer B, who sat there with a sanctimonious gaze fixed straight ahead, clearly hoping he’d muddy the waters. So he said, “No, there are two Converts here.”

0777’s brow twitched, and he immediately looked at 0933—clearly his first hope. 0416 noticed and promptly crushed it. “The Thief.”

0777 was stunned at first, then, after a moment of thought, caught on. “Wait a damn minute,” he said, waving his hand. “This doesn’t add up. Four people—me and that guy are Converts.” His anger began to show. “You and 0933 are off the hook? You’re playing a fucking clever game!”

“What does this have to do with 0933?” 0416 retorted.

0777 shot to his feet, pointing at his nose. “Don’t think I don’t know—you’re fucking him up the ass!”

0416’s first reaction was to glance at 0933 out of the corner of his eye. He saw him lower his head in shame, fingers gripping his pants tightly. 0777 wasn’t done, spewing obscenities: “I saw it with my own eyes—you fucked his asshole so raw it swelled up! You’re just framing us to protect him!”

What he said was true, but 0416 wouldn’t let the others take it as fact. “If the officers didn’t allow it, could I even get to 0933?” He stood up too, confronting 0777 head-on. “Let The Thief speak for himself—is he a Convert or not?”

The focus of the discussion shifted. 0777 followed his lead and looked at The Thief, who was also hanging his head, his tattoo-covered muscles tense with stiffness. “I… am a Convert,” he said. “But I’ve never played as The Elder. I’ve never even left the Island of Saints!”

0777 glared at him in disgust, taking in his muscular build and dense tattoos. 0416 leaned in, whispering provocatively, “This guy likes getting fucked. Maybe you two have done it too…”

0777 clenched his fists and swung. 0416 had been prepared—he sidestepped easily. 0777 lunged again, but then the alloy handcuffs’ alarm went off. He stopped cautiously, snarling at 0416, “I’ll gut you sooner or later!”

0416 had been waiting for this. “How?” he baited. “Like you gutted that poor bastard? Slit his belly open and pulled his guts out?”

“Enough!” Officer B suddenly spoke up. He was usually silent, but now his face was pale with fury as he glared at 0777. “Sit down,” he ordered. “In the Panopticon, I have the authority to subject you to any corporal punishment below Level 3!”

0777 didn’t move. He wasn’t backing down. “Why aren’t you punishing him?” He grabbed 0416. “He’s the one who said it!”

Officer B didn’t relent, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

This was a threat. He had never spoken to him like this before. 0777 slowly released 0416 and stepped back. “Mr. Lin, I think you don’t want your job anymore!”

Officer B chuckled. “Whether I stay or go,” he made a dismissive gesture to Officer A, “you’ll have to get out of the Panopticon first.”

This round had been chaotic. When 0416 returned to his prison pod, he felt restless. Was the situation still under his control? Was 0933 safe? What about himself? Had the blame been successfully shifted to 0777? None of these questions had answers. The only way to know was to see Officer B…

Just then, the door’s panel clicked. It might be Officer A. He eagerly stepped forward, waiting for it to open.

Sure enough, Officer B had summoned him. They bypassed the curved corridor, took the elevator to the Central Tower, and went straight to the top floor. In front of Officer B’s grand door, Officer A knocked, then pushed him inside.

Non, rien de rien. Non, je ne regrette rien. Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait…

The same old song. Today, the scent was geranium. The living room was empty, a glass of whiskey with melting ice left on the table.

He walked further in, turned a corner, and entered the bedroom. The thick curtains were drawn. On the sofa beside the large bed sat a small, thin figure with long bangs covering his eyebrows.

0416 froze.

It was 0933!

0933 looked up and widened his eyes in shock. For a moment, neither dared to speak. 0416 quickly analyzed the situation—what was Officer B’s intention? Was he starting to suspect them? Were there cameras here?

Whatever the case, he thought, he had to stick to their roles and play the part. So he put on a lecherous expression and approached 0933.

0933 sensed the change in his demeanor and understood. He immediately stood up, backing away as if to avoid him. But before he could take two steps, 0416 pounced, grabbing his wrist and pinning him against the wall.

“Officer! Offi—” 0933 began to struggle, pushing and calling for help. As for 0416, he truly acted like a lustful bastard, gripping 0933’s ass and sucking on his earlobe. “Who brought you here?”

“C,” 0933 answered amidst the tussle.

“Did you memorize the way?”

“I did.” Even though it was just an act, 0933 still felt ashamed, his face flushed as he dodged 0416’s breath. “With the handcuffs on, there’s no way to escape, right?”

“There’s always a way,” 0416 said, slipping his hands into 0933’s pants, reaching straight for that warm crevice. “As long as he keeps summoning us, we’ll have opportunities.”

0933 twisted his hips—weren’t they just acting? Then why…? 0416 was starting to get hard, grinding his hips against 0933’s pelvis. “0777 said you were swollen. Let me check how bad it is—”

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the decorative mirror on the wall—gray uniform, red armband. 0416 abruptly let go and turned toward the door. It was Officer B, leaning lazily against the frame, admiring their disgraceful display.

0933 seized the chance to break free, stumbling toward Officer B. 0416 tugged at his crotch awkwardly, looking embarrassed as he explained, “I thought you weren’t here… and he was just…”

Officer B smirked. 0933 hid behind him, but he pulled him forward—his lips red and swollen, finger marks on his pale skin, his face a picture of terror. “What were you two doing?” he asked, his tone dripping with malice.

0933 lowered his head, refusing to answer. Officer B pinched his thin ribs. “Speak. What were you doing?”

0416 understood Officer B’s implication—this was about his suggestion from last time. The three of them together… He walked over, and 0933 immediately panicked, flustered as he dodged behind Officer B. “He… he was trying to force me!”

Officer B still wore that gentle smile, but his grip on 0933 was ironclad. “Force you to do what?”

There was no way to answer that. 0933 tried to run, but Officer B held him firmly, dragging him back and shoving him onto the bed. “Officer?” he protested, struggling. “I… I want to go back to my cell—”

“Scissors!” Officer B commanded.

0416 immediately went to the small table in the living room where a vase sat and retrieved the scissors. When he returned, 0933 was already stripped from the waist down, his pants discarded on the floor.

He handed the scissors to Officer B, watching as he roughly cut open 0933’s shirt. Several times, the sharp tip nearly grazed his skin. “This is so thrilling. Let me try?”

Officer B tossed the scissors to him, tearing the fabric along the cut and throwing the tattered remains off the bed. “Deal with yourself first.”

Now fully naked, 0933 curled up pitifully. Officer B straddled him, leisurely undoing his buttons—the picture of a refined degenerate. As 0416 cut off his own clothes, he glared sullenly. “You’re way too into this,” he taunted. “Has running a prison alone really left you this pent up?”

Officer B looked down at 0933, toying with his arms like he was handling a pet. His casual demeanor made him seem almost disinterested. “Three years… alone.”

He had taken off his jacket and pants but left his underwear on. Though there was no visible reaction below, he seemed excited, repeatedly kissing 0933’s face. 0933 whimpered, his limbs still struggling. For a fleeting moment, he glanced at 0416—pleading, yet also resentful.

0416 was now fully undressed, sitting on the couch, watching Officer B reluctantly engage with 0933. “Officer, want me to help you take off your underwear?”

“Huh?” Just from that one sentence, Officer B’s voice trembled slightly. Amused, 0416 propped his chin on his hand, staring at his crotch. “From behind, the three of us could sandwich together like an Oreo…”

It was the crudest tease imaginable, but Officer B ate it up, his lower half stirring slightly. “Watch your words,” he warned, clearly not wanting to expose his debauched side in front of 0933. But 0416 wasn’t afraid of him—he knew exactly what he was doing. He climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Officer B’s waist from behind.

Officer B heated up quickly, his arousal swelling beneath the tight fabric of his underwear, forming an obscene bulge. 0933 felt the change and stared in shock, only to have his eyes covered again as Officer B shoved him back onto the bed.

0416 began to suck—his nose, the corners of his eyes, his temples, his Adam’s apple. Officer B moaned, trembling uncontrollably as he leaned back into 0416. Slowly, 0416 peeled off his underwear, loosely gripping his erection and stroking it deliberately. Meanwhile, his other hand stealthily crept up 0933’s thigh, not daring to move too much, just gently brushing with his thumb.

Perhaps it was the thrill of doing this in front of 0933, but Officer B was overwhelmed by an unusual surge of pleasure. He lost control for a moment, spilling into 0416’s hand. 0933 shrieked as the hand covering his eyes loosened. Through the gaps between Officer B’s ring-adorned fingers, he saw a sticky white mess on his chest—Officer B’s release.

Instantly, his face burned with humiliation. Disgusted, he looked up and saw 0416 and Officer B entwined like snakes, kissing filthily, obscenely. He thrashed violently, trying to escape from under them, but 0416 grabbed his neck, pressing his hardened length against him. Officer B, running a hand through his hair, stepped back, leaving the two of them tangled together, naked.

“Bastard… get off!” His resistance was so genuine that, for a moment, 0416 felt a flash of frustration. But he quickly regained his composure. “We’ve already done it once. Why act so stubborn now?”

His fingers pushed into 0933’s ass, playing with that tight space right in front of Officer B. 0933 couldn’t believe it, whimpering as he covered his face, his stomach jerking comically in futile resistance.

His naivety amused Officer B, who lit an old-fashioned cigarette by the bed and rummaged through a drawer before tossing a small squeeze bottle of lube onto 0933. 0416 picked it up—it was the same as last time. “Seriously, Officer? You keep this on hand?”

“Shut up,” Officer B blew smoke at him. Amidst the hazy fumes and the burning scent of nicotine, he leaned in, resting his hands on 0416’s shoulders and offering him the soft filter of the cigarette. “Make him put on a show for me.”

0416 took a deep drag before pressing the narrow nozzle of the bottle into 0933’s ass, squeezing it empty and waiting a moment before pushing his slick tip inside. Officer B stared intently, the cigarette forgotten at his lips. 0933 could see his gaze and clenched his sphincter in shame, shaking his hips desperately.

The sight was both innocent and obscene. 0416’s throat tightened—no, not just his throat. His whole body burned with tension, especially his throbbing arousal. “Hey, relax… a little!”

0933 thought he was uncomfortable and gripped the sheets, squeezing even tighter, sending chills down 0416’s spine until he couldn’t take it anymore. Gripping the soft flesh of 0933’s thighs, he showed no mercy, forcing them apart and thrusting in to the hilt.

0933 cried out, his voice a mix of panic and pleading. Officer B shivered, watching as 0416 kept going, burying himself until even his pubic hair was slick. Only then did he reluctantly stop.

“You’re really something,” Officer B said, unconsciously mirroring 0933’s clenching. “You’re going to tear him,” he muttered, eyeing the pale, stretched folds glistening with lube as they clung to 0416. “This kind of treatment… it’s perverted.”

When 0933 heard the word “perverted,” his entire body flushed red. Being watched while being penetrated by another man—it was perverted. He stopped covering his face, slapping at 0416 wildly, trying to push him away.

0416 held him tightly around the waist. He knew he was ashamed, furious—but this was their reality. If they wanted to escape, they had to endure. “It’s okay, I’ll go slow, it’s okay…” he coaxed, his tenderness slipping through. But with Officer B watching, he tensed internally, forcing himself to move his hips like the bastard he was pretending to be.

0933 whimpered, wrapping his legs around 0416, pressing his feet against his waist to stop him. 0416 clung to him, licking his face as he rocked gently. Though it was gentle to him, for 0933, every friction was a challenge to his sanity, a crushing of his dignity. After a while, his body trembled and softened, surrendering.

Officer B was stunned by the change. He had only been forced, violated—yet his body responded so readily. “Get up,” he ordered 0416. “Let me see him.”

Reluctantly, 0416 pulled out, exposing 0933—humiliated, violated, yet fully erect, his length pressed against his pale stomach, twitching helplessly.

Officer B swallowed hard, pushing at 0416’s abdomen to make him retreat slightly. As he did, he saw where their bodies joined—the flushed flesh, the slick fluids, the violently contracting muscles.

“Is he sucking you in?” Officer B asked around his cigarette, reaching out but not daring to touch. “He’s getting pleasure from this?”

“Maybe,” 0416 said, cupping 0933’s waist and stroking his arousal from below. “Can I keep going, Officer? He’s squeezing me so tight I’m about to come.”

Officer B waved dismissively, the picture of authority. Sweating, 0416 immediately spread 0933’s thighs and thrust in hard.

0933 began to moan, his cries unrestrained and unconscious. He didn’t realize how wrecked his ass looked—the tender flesh repeatedly scraped by coarse hair, the wet sounds from inside him, the excess lube dripping with every movement, soaking the sheets in a sticky mess.

Suddenly, the cigarette burned Officer B’s fingers. He flicked it away, shaking his hand before grabbing 0416’s head and pulling him into a kiss. Of course, 0416 kissed back—reluctantly, insincerely, but passionately, teasing with his tongue. Officer B couldn’t help but react, as if he were the one being taken so roughly, so perfectly.

0416 was dazed too, his lower half tightly embraced, his lips and tongue devoured. For a moment, he wasn’t sure who he was really intimate with. But just for that moment. He skillfully disentangled himself from Officer B and looked at 0933—who was also staring at him, panting, burning, his eyes wet.

0416 shoved Officer B away, gritting his teeth as he arched his back, feigning climax as he pulled 0933 into a tender embrace. He really was close, thrusting desperately into that frail body. Between kisses, between fleeting whispers against his skin, he murmured, “I love you.” Softly, he repeated, “Don’t doubt it. I love you.”

He came, his body tensing powerfully—the entire bed, even Officer B, could feel it. 0933 followed almost instantly, his hips lifting desperately, his slender legs wrapping beautifully, toes curling white. Officer B watched them, a sudden pang of loneliness striking him—the emptiness of being excluded, the gnawing jealousy.

0416 climbed off 0933, gazing at him longingly—his panting, his heat, his flushed skin, all the lingering traces of passion making his heart race. He reached to brush the damp hair from 0933’s forehead, but 0933 recoiled in disgust, his hand flying up to slap him hard across the face.

The sound was startlingly loud in the quiet room. 0416 stayed still, seemingly stunned by the sting on his cheek. Officer B, however, laughed as if it were the funniest thing, leisurely flicking ash from his cigarette before standing to retrieve his dignified Party uniform. As he dressed, he walked back to the living room.

The bed was silent. Neither of them spoke—or dared to. Outside, Officer B was on the phone, rambling about the Panopticon’s administrative funding. 0416 reached for 0933’s hand, but before he could touch it, 0933 slapped him away, his eyes red.

“Pants.”

0416 hurried to pick up the pants for him—not just picking them up, but also dutifully helping him put them on. 0933’s legs couldn’t quite close properly, his backside still exposed. 0416 grabbed a handful of tissues to pad him. “Do you need to rest for a bit?”

0933 refused to let him touch him, muttering, “I don’t want to stay here for even a minute.”

They walked out of the bedroom. Just as they entered the living room, Officer B opened the door. Officer A stood there in impeccable uniform, clearly there to escort the prisoners back to their cells. This time, regardless of whether 0933 liked it or not, 0416 bent down, hoisted him onto his back, and tossed a “I’ll take him first” at Officer B before striding out.

Officer A waited for Officer B’s instructions. Officer B was on the phone, repeatedly calling someone “Chief,” but he spared a glance at the door—at the two figures leaning on each other. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought before nodding at Officer A.

The journey from the top floor of the Central Tower to the top floor of the prison block wasn’t short. 0416 and 0933 maintained their silent standoff—clinging to each other in the most intimate posture while stubbornly resisting in their hearts. Officer A led them to Block 09 and opened the cell door. 0416 should have put 0933 down by now, but he stubbornly refused, insisting on entering the cell with him.

Officer A used the intercom to consult Officer B. Whatever was said on the other end, Officer A roughly shoved them inside and slammed the door shut. “Eight hours,” he said, removing their handcuffs before closing the panel.

Now alone in the room, 0933 sat on the edge of the bed with his head lowered. 0416 leaned against the wall opposite him. “Don’t be angry,” he said, his tone lacking sincerity, like the perfunctory placation of an old married couple. “Just endure it a little longer. There’ll be chances.”

0933 didn’t respond. 0416 sighed. “Take it slow. Once he stops being wary of us, I’ll find a way to get him to remove these damn cuffs.”

“How many more times?” 0933 asked, his fingers nervously clutching his pants, trembling. “How many more times do we have to do… that shameless thing?”

His expression made 0416’s heart ache. Filled with guilt, he wanted nothing more than to rush over and hold him. “I don’t know…” He shrugged weakly. “Maybe next time, or the time after…”

“But he’s already looking for The Elder,” 0933 lifted his head, his fragile exterior belying his sharp logic. “Sooner or later, he’ll find you too.” As if already knowing the answer, he asked softly, “Who do you think will get there first—you or him?”

0416 stared at him, unable to speak. 0933 lowered his head again, playing with the folds of his pants. “You’re The Elder, aren’t you?” His voice was calm, carrying a gentle understanding. “Still won’t tell me what you did?”

0416 opened his mouth, then suddenly deflated. In two strides, he was beside 0933, pressing close to him. “You’re so smart. You must’ve guessed already.”

0933 turned his face away. “Guessing isn’t the truth.” His tone was almost cute—testing, a little resentful, the kind of bittersweetness unique to youth. 0416 gazed at him, mesmerized—this genius who had been cut down before he even reached adulthood, trapped in an iron cage.

“I got him from another Listener,” 0416 murmured. “Silver.”

0933 whipped his head around. “The character selection screen didn’t have The Elder as an option!”

“Right,” 0416 admitted. “But there was a Demon option—hidden in the secondary menu on the last page.”

“Impossible,” 0933 said, wide-eyed. “Those are just background NPCs no one plays!”

“But that’s where I found him,” 0416 grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers possessively. “Wrapped in a tattered cloak, day after day, waiting for a carriage in the pitch-black forest.”

His words were so desolate that 0933 couldn’t help but squeeze his hand back. “Was this when I couldn’t find you?”

“And when I couldn’t find you,” 0416 leaned closer but didn’t dare get too close, afraid the Central Tower would detect their affection. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just tried my luck…”

He trailed off. 0933 shook his wrist, urging him to continue. “A group of people just like us—Listeners, Converts, Archers, Thieves. The things they said, the way they spoke, it was exactly like us. It was like I’d gone back in time…”

That couldn’t be possible. 0933 pressed, “And then?”

“The system prompted me to take Silver to a certain place, but I didn’t,” 0416 grew agitated, even regretful. “You know, I was jealous back then—jealous of your relationship with him…”

So? 0933 looked at him, their joined hands unconsciously tightening. 0416 took a deep breath and said slowly, “I humiliated him, and then… I gutted him.”

0933 froze. He had guessed this before—whenever 0777 mentioned “gutting,” Officer B had a visible reaction. But hearing it firsthand still left him stunned. “Why… why be so cruel?”

0416 could feel his gaze—confusion, reproach, even a trace of fear. He was eager to explain, but 0933 beat him to it. “How… how did you humiliate him?”

“N-not much!” At this, 0416 rushed to clarify. “I just touched him. I don’t even know what I was thinking back then. You were so kind to him, so I just wanted to bully him a little!”

“Then…” 0933 blinked, suddenly bashful. “How did you touch him?”

Cornered, 0416 slumped. “I pinned him down and touched him… down there. He was half-dead, so I wanted to see if he could get hard.”

“And then?”

“Then he…” 0416 scratched his head guiltily. “Did get hard…”

This time, 0933 didn’t ask further. The air grew heavy for a moment before 0416 voluntarily continued. “I stepped on it, grinding my foot while cursing at him. He grabbed my ankle, but he was too weak. Then I saw his back—his wings were starting to push out.” He paused. “I thought he was a Demon too.”

“So…” 0933 understood. “You were afraid he’d have a monster inside him, just like The Elder?”

0416 nodded. “I gutted him—with my teeth and nails, while he was still alive.” He closed his eyes, recalling the inhuman brutality. “I was excited, couldn’t control myself. Probably the Demon’s character traits. I tortured him, pulled out his organs, tore his skin… He kept screaming…”

Even though it was just a game, all the sensations were real. 0933 couldn’t imagine the pain and terror Officer B must have felt, watching his own guts being ripped out. “But he shouldn’t have known it was you…”

This “you” referred to The Convert. 0416 shook his head. “From the things I cursed at him, he could guess.”

Now it made sense—the study group, the manipulation, the beatings. Officer B’s every action was aimed at finding the “Convert” and getting revenge.

“By the end, he was convulsing. Even the slightest touch or sound made him tremble,” 0416 sighed regretfully. “Then, in that pool of blood, he suddenly spread his wings. That’s when I realized—he was an Angel.”

0933 squeezed his hand.

“Right after, he spoke,” 0416 swallowed. “Very softly. He…” He took a deep breath. “He asked for my number!”

So that’s how he knew the Angel wasn’t an NPC! 0933 wrapped his arms around 0416’s shoulders, resting his chin there. “Are you scared?”

“No,” 0416 said calmly. “Because of you, I’m not thinking about how to avoid Officer B finding out. I’m thinking about how to take you with me when I escape.”

0933 laughed, burying his lashes in the crook of 0416’s neck. “There’s no escape. The Panopticon’s never had a single successful prison break.”

“You know what?” 0416 whispered, leaning in. “There’s only one real person here—Officer B. The rest are all AIs.”

0933 lifted his head, locking eyes with him in disbelief. Just then, the panel on the door clicked open. Officer A’s cold voice came through. “0416, 0933, prepare to exit the pod.”

0416 resisted. “It hasn’t been eight hours yet.”

“New orders,” Officer A said impatiently, rapping the alloy door with his Doctrine Baton. “Assemble in the fifth-floor meeting room of the Central Tower.”

0416 walked to the meeting room in handcuffs. Officer B stood at the door, the Party insignia on his red armband glaringly bright. When he saw him, he flicked his cigarette and motioned for Officer A to take 0933 inside first.

“What’s up?” 0416 lingered outside, lazily asking, “Missed me?” His gaze raked over Officer B from head to toe—a blatant, wordless proposition.

Officer B’s cigarette-holding fingers twitched. He licked his lips, restless. “What did you two talk about?” He tilted his head toward the propaganda slogans on the wall, feigning nonchalance.

“Just coaxing him,” 0416 said in a voice that could melt bones, sticky and sweet. “If I don’t coax him, there won’t be a next time.”

Officer B suddenly laughed, as if talking to himself. “You still think there’ll be a next time!”

The words sent a chill down 0416’s spine. What did he mean? Was this sudden new order targeting him? He kept his expression neutral, but his mind raced. Officer B, however, said nothing more. He pushed the door open—inside, five people sat in a neat semicircle.

0416 grabbed him. “I want to stay with you.”

The words were abrupt. Officer B turned to look at him, slowly closing the door again. “What do you mean?”

“I want someone to protect me,” 0416 said, his face flushing as if making a humiliating demand. “If you’re protecting me, I can’t sleep in the pod. I have to sleep with you.”

“What about 0933?” Officer B narrowed his eyes.

“If I have you, I won’t even glance at him,” 0416 said arrogantly, raising an eyebrow. Then he added, “And I mean have you. If you don’t let me fuck you, it’s no deal.”

Officer B burst out laughing but didn’t speak, waiting with amusement for him to continue. 0416 spread his hands. “That’s it. Yes or no?”

Officer B rested his hand on the doorknob, neither pushing nor pulling. “When this round is over,” he said softly, “you’ll get what you want.”

With that, he walked in without looking back. 0416 stared at that elegant back before following. Was he telling the truth? If so, then he was safe. So who was about to suffer?

It could only be 0777.

Everyone took their seats. Officer A began as usual. “Today is the study group’s final session,” he flipped open his notebook. “I told you at the first meeting—the Island of Saints game is too old. I assume you’re all tired of it.”

Final session? 0416 frowned as Officer A continued. “The Party cares deeply about your mental well-being. We’ve specially developed a second immersive game for you—Mount Luoji.”

The prisoners exchanged glances.

“The four of you,” Officer A stood, beckoning to Officer C, “have been selected as testers.”

0416’s heart pounded. This development was unexpected. He was certain the officers had an ulterior motive, but he had no idea what Officer B was planning. Officer C took out four electronic chips from his pocket, each labeled with a prisoner’s number.

“These are your assigned roles in the new game,” Officer A pointed to the next room. “The testing pods are ready. You’ll enter the game immediately, with no preparation time.”

While the others were still confused, 0933 raised his hand. “Officer, will there only be the four of us as players in the game?”

A crucial question. Officer A smiled, closing his notebook as he stood. “The officers will enter the game with you. Your roles are assigned by us, but our roles will be kept secret from you.”

This was clearly an unequal hunt. Officer B intended to settle his grudge with the “Convert” inside the game. Once the game began, no one could predict how things would unfold. His own role should be safe, but what about 0933? 0416 glanced over just as Officer C ordered 0933 to stand and line up with the others to go next door.

The moment of decision had arrived. 0416 tore the number off his chip, deliberately moving slowly to brush against 0933 as he passed. He coughed subtly, showing him the chip.

0933 understood immediately. He tore the number off his own chip, though he wasn’t sure why—until 0416 “accidentally” tripped on the threshold, bumping into him and knocking his chip to the ground.

Sure enough, two chips lay on the floor. 0416 bent to pick one up, showing it to Officer A. “Officer, this one’s mine. Do you need to check?”

“No need,” Officer B answered for him, as if trusting him implicitly.