Chapter 14.1

Mo Zimu struggled only briefly before feeling his consciousness slip away, his limbs going limp. In a daze, he felt himself being lifted and placed onto a pile of fabric, then pushed along.

When he opened his eyes again, Teabag stood before him, holding an empty cup with a smug expression.

Water splashed onto Mo Zimu’s face, and through the blurry lenses of his glasses, he could still make out the malicious glint in Teabag’s eyes.

This seemed to be a storage room. Since Mo Zimu didn’t have a work assignment in Mammon, he wasn’t as familiar with the layout of the prison’s storage areas as Tom and the others were, but he knew this wasn’t near the kitchen.

The room was piled high with bundled sheets, and it must have been quite isolated since no outside noise reached him. Apart from Teabag and Jude, four or five tall men stood around, all looking down at him like he was a lamb already laid out on the table.

“Feeling awake yet?” Teabag handed the cup to one of the others, then reached out and took Mo Zimu’s glasses off his face.

He examined him carefully from head to toe before exhaling and muttering, “Not bad, truly premium. Ivan’s been enjoying himself, but he’s had his fun for too long. Today, we brothers get a turn!”

The implications of his words sent a chill down Mo Zimu’s spine.

Lying limp on the pile of sheets, he tried to sit up, but two burly men grabbed his arms and pinned him back down forcefully.

In a hoarse voice, he said, “Boss Teabag, I’m Ivan’s partner. Surely you wouldn’t disrespect him like this?”

Teabag chuckled nervously, shaking his auburn head as he drawled, “Seven, do you know where you went wrong?”

Without waiting for a response, he sneered and continued, “You thought I’d have to give Ivan face. You thought he calls the shots in Mammon!”

His expression darkened as he suddenly roared, “Today I’ll show you that there’s no one in Mammon I can’t touch! And I’ll make Ivan realize he’s on equal footing with me. He hasn’t climbed onto my head yet!”

Stretching lazily after his outburst, Teabag said, “Don’t waste time. It’ll take over an hour for everyone to have a turn.”

Jude stepped forward. “Boss Teabag, let me go first!”

Teabag glanced at him indifferently, “Fine, you can go first. Let’s see if that satisfies you.”

Jude approached, his emerald-green eyes glared venomously at Mo Zimu.

“Jude… I don’t understand why you hate me so much,” Mo Zimu said.

Jude leaned closer, running his slender fingers slowly over Mo Zimu’s skin. “Do you know what’s most pathetic about people? It’s having faith in something, only to realize it’s a fraud. Seven, you’re that fraud. I wonder, after being gang-raped by so many people, will you still look so lofty and untouchable?”

Mo Zimu’s eyelids lowered slightly, his long lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes. His straight nose added a hint of youthful masculinity to his otherwise delicate features.

Jude looked down at him as Teabag jeered sarcastically, “What’s this? You’re trying to bond with him? Hurry up. There’s a line!”

Jude grabbed a fistful of Mo Zimu’s hair, forcing his head down onto the sheets as he kissed him, moving from his face to his neck. Then, lifting his head to glance at him again, he saw that Mo Zimu had completely shut his eyes.

He unbuttoned Mo Zimu’s shirt and unzipped his pants.

At that moment, Jude felt the room filled with heavy breathing, unsure whether it came from others or himself.

When his hand slid into Mo Zimu’s underwear, he distinctly felt Mo Zimu’s body tremble involuntarily.

“Your moans sound nice, Seven. I want to hear how you cry beneath me!” Jude growled, his breath heavy with anticipation.

Forcing Mo Zimu into this act, making him submit to men he despised, filled Jude with a dark thrill. For a fleeting moment, he felt ashamed of the pleasure it gave him.

It takes centuries for a beast to evolve into a man, yet only a single moment for a man to become a beast.

Mo Zimu did not dare open his eyes. Never before had he felt so helpless, terrified, and lost. The night with Donald and his son had left him unconscious, turning it into an unbearable yet distant memory. The second time, Donald had drugged him, leaving him powerless to resist.

But this time, he was fully aware. He could feel everything. The weight of reality pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

Now he realized that fear had no limits.

He had sworn never to believe in God, yet in this moment he found himself silently praying for a miracle.

Mo Zimu’s trembling heightened Jude’s excitement. Even the man holding him down couldn’t resist, his free hand wandering across Mo Zimu’s body.

Jude abruptly swatted the hand away.

Teabag smirked. “Damn, this kid really is a prize. I’m getting tempted myself. Why not go at him together?”

Jude expression turned cold. “You promised the first turn was mine!”

Teabag frowned. “What’s the problem? We’re all holding back here!”

Jude spoke firmly, “I go first. After that, do whatever you want!”

Teabag’s face darkened, clearly displeased at being challenged by his own partner. Still, he relented with a bitter expression. “Then hurry up! Everyone’s waiting!”

Jude turned back to Mo Zimu. “Remember, I’m the one taking you now.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the door slammed open with a loud bang.

A lazy voice echoed, “Teabag, what the hell are you doing with my man in here?”

Even Mo Zimu, despite his usual composure, couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. He opened his eyes slightly, for once welcoming Ivan’s cold, mocking gaze.

Ivan stood in the doorway with a group of men. His towering frame made the storeroom feel cramped. Even the burly white men in the room seemed less intimidating by comparison.

Teabag scratched his eyebrow, forcing a grin. “Ivan, didn’t this kid ditch you? I’m just helping teach him a lesson for you.”

“Since when does my man need you to discipline him?” Ivan’s silver-gray eyes locked onto Teabag’s gaunt face with an icy glare.

“That’s not the point!” Teabag avoided his gaze, his voice dry. “This kid told you to get lost in front of everyone. Are you saying he can disrespect you like that? He made it clear he’s done with you, so he’s no longer your partner. What’s the harm in us having a little talk? Interfering now would be breaking the rules, wouldn’t it?”

Ivan chuckled softly, then raised his head, “You dumb mutt, don’t you understand there are some people who, no matter how powerful you are, can still yell at you? Even if you control everything, you occasionally have to give them a bit of face, maybe even bow your head.”

He turned to Mo Zimu. “Baby, you’re smarter than him. Tell him, if you’re not my partner, what are you?”

Mo Zimu hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. He finally answered in a low voice, “Lover.”

“What?” Ivan leaned closer with a smile. “Say it louder. Teabag’s ears are full of water!”

Mo Zimu swallowed nervously before raising his voice. “I’m Ivan’s lover!”

“Lover. Such a wonderful word!” Ivan opened his arms. “Come here, sweetheart. Into my arms.”

Teabag’s face turned ashen.

Mo Zimu broke free from the two hesitant men holding him down. As he zipped up his pants and stumbled toward Ivan, his legs were still weak. Ivan’s strong arms caught him, pulling him firmly into his chest.

Jude stood silently in the corner, his expression dark.

Holding Mo Zimu, Ivan spoke lazily, “Teabag, do you know what ‘respect’ means?”

Before Teabag could answer, Sticks, standing nearby, suddenly lunged forward and drove a fork into Jude’s left eye.

Jude’s scream echoed through the room, a piercing, gut-wrenching cry.

Mo Zimu, his back to the scene, squeezed his eyes shut.

Teabag was both shocked and furious, but Ivan remained calm. “Respect goes both ways. The only reason this kid is still breathing is because I chose to show you some respect, Teabag.”

He held Mo Zimu close and led him out. As they walked, Ivan leaned in and whispered near his ear, his tone gentle. “Baby, you were scared. I’m sorry. I had something important to take care of today. But the moment I realized you and Teabag were both missing, I started looking for you. I turned Mammon upside down these past ten minutes.”

His words carried a comforting warmth, yet the agonized wails of Jude in the background made Mo Zimu instinctively try to steady his steps. But between Ivan’s firm grip and his own shaky legs, he had no choice but to lean on him for support.

By the time they reached the entrance to the main building, Mo Zimu’s legs finally regained strength. He discreetly pulled away from Ivan’s arms.

Ivan chuckled, “Seven, don’t be too proud. You’re not yet capable of protecting yourself.”

Mo Zimu lowered his head slightly and said, “I’m very grateful you saved me earlier. I promise I’ll repay you for this favor someday.”

“Repay a favor?” Ivan said lightly. “I recall you just said you’re my lover.”

Mo Zimu turned his head slightly, avoiding Ivan’s gaze. “Ivan, you know those words were just a temporary measure. You shouldn’t take them seriously.”

Ivan took a deep breath. “Seven, you don’t seem to understand. I never force anyone. But once someone makes a promise to me, they don’t get to take it back. Until I say it’s over, you are my lover. Remember that.”

He brushed past Mo Zimu and stepped into the building first. His tone was calm, yet the weight of his authority pressed down on Mo Zimu, leaving him with an indescribable sense of pressure.

He exhaled deeply.

No matter what, as long as he could escape Mammon this Saturday, as long as he could leave this hell, perhaps everything would finally be over.

Mo Zimu repeated this to himself silently.

When Kaspersky once again slipped a note along with breakfast into the C204 cell, Mo Zimu couldn’t help but smile faintly. As expected, Geoffrey’s competitiveness wouldn’t allow him to swallow his pride.

Tom excitedly waved the note in his hand, causing the one-eyed Kaspersky to glance at them a few times despite himself.

“Stay calm,” Tommy said.

“We’re about to be free!” Tom said, barely able to contain his excitement as he fist-bumped each of them.

“Let’s divide the tasks,” Tommy said, turning to Mo Zimu.

Mo Zimu took the note from Tom. The date written was Sunday. He said, “Tommy and Tom, handle the glowing water in the trash bags. Jack, you’ll monitor Hatch and make sure he drinks the foxglove-laced whiskey. If necessary, visit Mike and tell him your heart feels unwell. That way, Adolf will have to escort Hatch out. I’ll take care of the rest.”

He extended his fist and said, “To our freedom!”

Tom and Jack enthusiastically bumped fists with him. “To our freedom!”

Tommy glanced at Mo Zimu, his dark face showing a trace of excitement. He simply said, “Let’s hope everything goes smoothly.”

A few days later, Tommy brought news. “Ivan is very likely to leave the prison soon.”

In a low voice, he continued, “The Bonanno family has undergone a major upheaval. Henry Bonanno had a bloody conflict with his brother Jason. It’s said Henry is seriously injured, and Jason’s life is uncertain. Ivan is highly regarded by the Bonanno family elders, and Henry owes him a huge favor. I think he’ll be leaving the prison soon, no matter the method. If anyone can get out of here, it has to be Ivan.”

Mo Zimu thought to himself, He’ll definitely get out of here. After a brief pause, he said, “Don’t worry about others. We’ll proceed as planned.”

Tommy wanted to say something but ultimately swallowed his words.

Everything was progressing in an orderly manner.

Mo Zimu modified the schedule for the docked ships across the shore.

The alcohol-loving Hatch happily discovered half a bottle of fine private whiskey in a corner of the kitchen.

The next morning, a medical emergency occurred in D Block. Hatch was found unconscious in his single cell.

Returning from Mike’s place, Jack, with his thick lips curling into a mocking grin, said, “That guy looks like he’s at death’s door. Even if he survives, he’ll probably lose half his life. Adolf’s roaring nearly tore Mike’s office apart.”

As expected, Adolf only dared to quietly send Hatch out for treatment. He altered the schedule of a supply ship and hastily boarded it with a confidant to escort Hatch away.

Leaning by the library window, Mo Zimu used his monocular to watch the ship depart. He knew that once Adolf reached the hospital, they would find out Hatch didn’t have heart disease but was poisoned.

By then, it wouldn’t matter, because he and his cellmates would already be far away.

Mo Zimu smiled faintly. Behind his glasses, his emerald-green eyes were brighter than ever.