Chapter 10.2

Mo Zimu walked through the long corridor, passing cell after cell, as if walking through a series of cages.

The eyes staring out from behind those bars were hungry and filled with animalistic desire. Those weren’t human eyes anymore.

When he entered his cell, the others looked at him with faint concern. Mo Zimu broke the silence. “Have any of you ever thought about getting out of here?”

Tommy didn’t answer, but Tom let out a mocking laugh. “The only thing I’ve thought about is whether I’ll survive tomorrow.”

“What if… I could make the supply ship dock at the pier on Hunter Night?” Mo Zimu spoke slowly.

Everyone except for the naive Jack audibly gasped. Tommy’s head snapped up, and he said cautiously, “The supply ship never comes on Hunter Night.”

Mo Zimu took a few steps further into the cell, still slightly out of breath. “The supply ship usually arrives at Mammon on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. If we can make it arrive on Hunter Night, we’ll have a chance to use the opportunity to leave Mammon.”

Tommy’s voice shook, “How could you possibly change the supply ship’s schedule?”

Tom suddenly shouted at Jack, who was still looking clueless, “Hey, Fatty! Stand guard at the door!”

Jack flinched but obediently got up. At over a meter wide, the doorway was completely blocked by his bulk.

““I can hack into the system on the other side and change the schedule,” Mo Zimu said, his voice shaking slightly.

The room fell silent for a long time before Tommy finally spoke. “Even if you could do that, we’d still have a lot of problems. First, how do we avoid Hunter? More importantly, how do we get from the Hunter Zone to Mammon’s pier? The non-Hunter zones are full of motion sensors. We wouldn’t make it fifty meters before alarms started blaring. And if that happens, they’ll shoot us to pieces. Whether it’s gunfire or the alarm itself, the supply ship would leave immediately. We’d have no chance. And even if we made it to the pier undetected, how do we hijack the ship without anyone noticing?”

Tom said, “You know, there are at least three guards on the ship, armed guards.” He sighed. “Not to mention, unless we leave at night, we won’t be able to avoid the morning roll call. As long as you’re alive, you have to answer at roll call.”

Tommy continued, “Even if we get on the ship, they’ll realize we’re missing within an hour, and by then, we’ll still be drifting at sea.”

Mo Zimu said, “If we participate in Hunter on a weekend and arrange for the supply ship to arrive on a Monday, we might have a good chance. Adolf likes to spend his weekends off the island. On Sundays and Monday mornings, roll call is usually handled by Norton, and it’s always delayed by at least two hours compared to normal. As for finding a route without alarms… perhaps the trash itself can show us the way.”

“This is ridiculous. Every Hunter night is a life-or-death struggle. They call our names according to a schedule. How can you guarantee we’ll join the weekend one? Are we supposed to sign up for the entire week of Hunters?” Tom said with a bitter smile.

Mo Zimu replied calmly, “Because Geoffrey only has time on weekends. He’s the son of Europe’s biggest arms dealer and has been involved in smuggling weapons with his father since he was ten. He’s too busy from Monday to Friday to come here for Hunter.”

Tom was stunned for a while before he said, “So that’s why you provoked him last time?”

Mo Zimu sighed. “He’s so competitive that I didn’t even need to provoke him on purpose.”

The cell fell into a heavy silence.

“No matter whether you guys are in or not, I’ve decided to get out of here,” Mo Zimu said.

“Too many obstacles,” Tommy exhaled deeply.

“So… you’ve already figured out the whole plan?” Tom asked.

Mo Zimu looked outside the cell. Even though Tommy had diligently blocked the doorway, he said, “Yes.”

Tom immediately shrugged and said, “We’re dead either way. I’ll take the gamble. I’m in.” As he spoke, he moved to stand next to Mo Zimu, punched his shoulder, and laughed, “From the moment you asked me to steal Kaspersky’s lens, I knew you were planning an escape!”

“Tommy, what about you?” Mo Zimu turned to the silent Tommy.

“It’s too risky,” Tommy said with a long sigh. “Far too risky.”

“Jack, what about you?” Mo Zimu asked, tilting his head slightly.

Before Jack could answer, Tom interrupted, “I’m absolutely against bringing Fatty. Do you want to advertise to everyone that the fat guy from C Block is part of our escape crew?”

Mo Zimu replied calmly, “If we leave Jack behind, Froggy will carve him up piece by piece.”

Jack’s body trembled at the thought. “No, no, don’t leave me behind!”

Mo Zimu said, “We can’t leave Jack behind.”

“I don’t agree,” Tom shouted. “Tommy, say something!”

Tommy’s dark face remained expressionless as he said, “If we leave Jack behind, we’ll be caught within thirty minutes.”

Mo Zimu stopped Tom from arguing further. “Tom, three to one.”

“Shit!” Tom snapped, throwing his hand in frustration.

Tommy let out a long sigh and said, “If staying here means death anyway, then we might as well take the risk.”

A faint smile curved on Mo Zimu’s beautifully defined lips, though it wasn’t immediately obvious.

That night, it rained again in Mammon.

In this place, both rain and death felt endless, yet it still had a dry season.

Mo Zimu listened to the heavy rain. W
ithout windows, the sound was muffled, as if it came from far away. He had to concentrate to hear the raindrops hitting the ground clearly.

He listened carefully, almost all night long.

—

The next morning, after eating hard bread, the bell for recreation time rang. The four of them made their way to the edge of the yard, with Jack acting as a natural human shield.

Tom glanced toward the gate of D Block and said, “First, we need to figure out how the people from D Block get through Mammon Forest to the dock. What path they take. If we pick the wrong route, we’ll trigger hidden alarms.”

Mo Zimu replied, “I need you to get me baking soda and hydrogen peroxide.”

Tom whispered, “What do you need those for?”

Mo Zimu smiled faintly. “I told you, the trash itself will tell us the route it takes.”

“Baking soda is easy; I can grab some from the kitchen. But cleaning supplies, that’s B Block’s job.” Tom shrugged and smirked. “Maybe Big Mouth Froggy thinks B Block needs more disinfecting.”

Noticing the slight frown on Mo Zimu’s face, Tom grinned mischievously, as if offering a solution.

“But today is B Block’s monthly cleaning of the storage room. They would’ve put the hydrogen peroxide out behind the kitchen this morning.”

Mo Zimu exhaled, “Then we’ll deal with the hydrogen peroxide today.”

No sooner had he spoken than a loud voice called out.

“Seven!” A tall prisoner approached, flicking his head back. “Ivan wants you in the library.”

“Got it,” Mo Zimu said indifferently.

Tommy took a deep breath and patted him on the shoulder.

Mo Zimu left the group and headed toward the library.

—

The library was empty, with the same old bookshelves and computers. Mo Zimu knew this usually meant Ivan wanted to have sex.

Before he could stop walking, Ivan grabbed him from behind, nuzzling his ear as he whispered, “Missed you, baby.”

Mo Zimu struggled slightly. “Didn’t you do it just yesterday?”

Ivan spun Mo Zimu around, half-lifting him so they were face to face, and grinned. “Did I? Yesterday, I think we were just discussing philosophy. But today is special. No matter what, I’m going to fuck you today!”

Mo Zimu frowned at his crude language, leaning back slightly to put some distance between them.

But Ivan held his hips firmly. To maintain his balance, Mo Zimu had to cling to Ivan’s neck. Ivan’s excitement flared instantly, his hand slipping into Mo Zimu’s pants.

“Not… not here. Let’s go inside,”

Ivan’s tongue slipped under Mo Zimu’s shirt, licking his chest. “I’d rather fuck you on the computer desk,” he murmured, “but, baby, it’s your call.”

He carried Mo Zimu to the far end of the aisle formed by the bookshelves, pressing him against the wall. Using his tongue, he undid Mo Zimu’s shirt, his warm breath leaving a ticklish, numbing sensation on Mo Zimu’s skin. His entire body grew warmer as the heat quickly spread through him.

Ivan skillfully removed Mo Zimu’s pants, his finger sliding into his entrance and lightly scraping along the sensitive walls. Mo Zimu gasped sharply, and Ivan immediately captured his slightly parted lips in a deep kiss. his tongue invading like a cavalry, ravaging Mo Zimu’s mouth before slowly retreating, as if wanting him to remember every moment of his conquest.

Ivan’s lovemaking was neither rushed nor slow. It was always assertive and measured, masterfully controlling their rhythm. He used every technique to ignite Mo Zimu’s desire before fully possessing him without reservation.

As Mo Zimu listened to the slow sound of Ivan unzipping his pants, his own body surged with uncontrollable excitement.

He had tried countless times to resist this desire, but against Ivan’s extensive experience and his own physiological responses, all resistance felt both futile and laughable.

He had secretly imagined countless times what it would be like to make love with Rong Qing, yet in reality, they had rarely even held hands.

In contrast, he had had sex with Ivan more times than he could count, but imagining the actual process outside of those moments felt impossible.

Frenzied intercourse, being forced into shameful positions, uncontrollable moans, and even cries at the peak of pleasure, all accompanied by heavy panting, the sound of bodies colliding, and the footsteps of people passing outside the cell, merged into the buzzing hum within the room. Everything seemed so public, the entire ordeal feeling as though it was on display for anyone to watch.

Ivan didn’t need to mark him physically. the sounds alone already declared his ownership of Seven to everyone in Mammon Prison. This was why Mo Zimu was unwilling to have sex in Ivan’s cell, although it seemed Ivan preferred the library anyway.

Ivan’s cock pushed into Mo Zimu’s entrance. The sensation was contradictory, both painful and thrilling. With each thrust and withdrawal, his whole being wavered between emptiness and fullness.

Mo Zimu’s legs were wrapped around Ivan’s waist. With each thrust, his body was pushed upward, only to helplessly slide back down as Ivan pulled away. This repeated collision seemed to excite Ivan more than usual. By the time the yard bell rang, he still hadn’t climaxed.

Mo Zimu whispered, “Ivan, hurry up!”

But Ivan showed no intention of finishing early. He held Mo Zimu tightly, pounding into him with increasing speed, clearly intent on savoring every second of his dominance.

Outside the library, the sound of boots hitting the ground echoed.

“Shit, it’s the guards!” Mo Zimu’s face turned pale as he desperately pounded on Ivan’s shoulders, trying to make him stop, but Ivan ignored him entirely, continuing his aggressive assault.

As the footsteps grew louder, Ivan’s thrusts became more intense and desperate. With a deep, final thrust, he released a warm rush of fluid inside Mo Zimu.

His grip relaxed slightly, and Mo Zimu, who had been struggling, slid to the floor.

Ivan casually took off his shirt and covered Mo Zimu’s exposed lower body. Pressing close, he whispered in his ear, “Happy eighteenth birthday, baby!”

Big Mouth Adolf stood at the end of the aisle, roaring, “Damn it, didn’t you hear the bell? You two rutting pigs!”

Ivan slowly zipped up his pants and turned to face Adolf. Perhaps it was his tall, muscular build that intimidated Adolf, causing his yelling to come to an abrupt stop.

Adolf gaze shifted to Mo Zimu, scanning him from head to toe before landing on his long, partially exposed legs, where milky-white fluid was still sliding down.

He let out a lewd chuckle. “Put your pants on and get out of here!”

He didn’t bother to watch Mo Zimu get dressed and turned to leave.

Mo Zimu threw off Ivan’s shirt and hurriedly put on his own clothes. Ivan leaned in, laughing in his ear. “That was fun. Let’s do it again next time.”

As Ivan reached out to help him with his pants, he noticed Mo Zimu’s hands trembling violently. When he touched him, Mo Zimu slapped his hand away.

Once dressed, Mo Zimu stormed out of the library without looking back. Ivan scratched his eyebrow and chuckled. “Hey, let’s walk out together!”

His long strides easily matched two of Mo Zimu’s. Before long, he caught up, and despite Mo Zimu’s reluctance, the two appeared together in the cell.

—

Tom and Tommy stood with their backs to the wall, leaving enough space for Mo Zimu to clean himself.

Jack, however, lacked the energy to even roll over once he was lying down, so he lay on his back, unable to move.

Because of this, he could sense every move Mo Zimu made inside the cell. He tried to hold back but couldn’t resist sneaking glances at him.

Mo Zimu slowly pulled his clothes open. The lights in the cell were off, and the building’s illumination was dim, making everything in the pitch-black cell appear hazy. He braced himself against the sink, bending forward to help push out as much of Ivan’s semen as possible. His body stretched, making his legs look long and lean. Slender but not frail, he looked like a drawn bow, sharp but restrained.

After wiping himself clean, Mo Zimu put on his clothes and turned on the cell’s light. He climbed onto his bed, leaning half against the pillow, and flipped through The Catcher in the Rye.

The restless Holden ran away again and again, only to end up with nowhere to go.