Chapter 9.2

Tommy and his cellmates was back, completely intact.

The other inmates were in shock. Once again, they had come out of Hunter’s Night unscathed, as if the danger had never been real. The entire prison buzzed with disbelief.

Tommy and Tom’s status shot up overnight. Many prisoners enjoyed listening to Tom’s exaggerated stories. Somehow, his tales filled them with courage, strength, experience, and a bit of fantasy. The yard became Tom’s stage. He retold their adventures countless times, each version more elaborate than the last. Details changed, sometimes contradicting earlier versions, but his own role in the story kept expanding. Eventually, it almost felt like a one-man show.

During these moments, Mo Zimu would stand by the wire fence, watching the activity area in D Block. The two sections were separated only by the fence, yet the air on the other side felt different. D Block was closer to the prison gates than C Block.

His long fingers hooked onto the wire mesh as he observed the people beyond the fence through his glasses. Unlike those in his own block, the inmates in D Block seemed distant, reserved, constantly wary of one another. They barely spoke, their bodies hunched under dark blue coats, caps pulled low as they leaned against the walls. Only one red-haired guy stood out. He was lively, always grinning, always chatting with someone.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slung an arm over his shoulder from behind, following his gaze. “Ah, that’s Hatch.”

“Hatch?” Mo Zimu asked indifferently. “He doesn’t look like someone from high society.”

“Of course not. He’s Adolf’s nephew, a habitual thief. He even got drunk and raped a young girl, earning himself a fifteen-year sentence. That’s why he’s in D Block, basically acting as Adolf’s eyes and ears.” Tom scoffed.

Just then, a group of inmates from D Block pushed a cart of garbage toward the disposal area. Black trash bags were stacked high, leaking foul-smelling liquid onto the already filthy ground. At the front, Hatch barked orders as they moved the garbage into the storage room. He didn’t carry himself like a prisoner doing menial labor. Instead, he gave commands with authority, his booming voice drawing the attention of those nearby.

Tom snorted in disdain as the bell rang. Mo Zimu turned away and headed back toward the main block with him.

Teabag and Jude were also passing by the entrance at the same time. Mo Zimu lowered his head and quickened his pace, hoping to avoid them.

But Jude was faster. He stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and smirked arrogantly.

“Seven, are you afraid to see me?”

Mo Zimu slightly furrowed his brow and said, “I’m not afraid to see you. Is that answer good enough for you?”

“Don’t act so high and mighty, Seven. Do you know how annoying you are? You walk around like some aloof prince, but deep down, you’re just a cheap slut who gets ridden and betrays others the moment it benefits you.” Jude’s thin lips curled into a sneer.

Before Mo Zimu could respond, Adolf shouted, “Damn it, what are you dragging your feet for? Get inside now!”

“Just catching up with an old friend,” Teabag said lazily, then walked over and draped an arm around Jude, leading him in.

“He’s like a rabid dog,” Tom muttered under his breath.

Mo Zimu took a deep breath and, without pausing, continued walking into the main block with Tom.

An hour later, it was time for lunch. With their newfound popularity, they now had their own table in the cafeteria. Tom no longer had to sneak food around. On meat days, their plates always had an extra serving.

Tommy remained as quiet as ever, but Tom was basking in the attention like a man who had just struck gold.

As he carried a plate of meat toward Mo Zimu and the others, he passed by Jude. Seemingly unwilling to let go of past grudges, Tom sneered mockingly, “Someone who lives off their ass, how comfortable can their life really be?”

The moment he finished speaking, his head was forcefully slammed onto a table. Teabag grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up. “Kid, you woke up this morning thinking you were Jerry, and now you actually believe you’re Tom, huh?”

Tom quickly repeated, “Teabag, let’s talk, let’s talk.”

Teabag turned to Jude with a cold smile and said, “Jude, this brat’s mouth stinks. How do you think we should deal with it?”

Jude picked up a fork and twirled it between his fingers. “His mouth isn’t the problem. It’s his eyes. They aren’t sharp enough. Let me fix that.”

Tom, terrified and seeing what was about to happen, quickly said, “Jude, my buddy, please…”

Jude’s aquamarine eyes flashed with a trace of viciousness. “You got it wrong. I’m not your buddy. I sell my ass for a living!”

With that, he thrust the fork sharply toward Tom’s eyes. However, the fork didn’t land where he expected it to, instead, it made a clattering sound, hitting the plate.

Mo Zimu had blocked Jude’s attack with his tray, causing food to spill all over the table.

“Jude, Tom was in the wrong. I apologize on his behalf.”

Hearing this, Jude let out a low chuckle. His already handsome face became even more striking when he smiled, carrying a hint of sweetness.

“Apologize? Right, Seven, that’s just like you. Always the first to say sorry when someone demands it. But tell me, how much is your apology even worth?”

Though Tom was held down, he couldn’t help but say, “Jude, don’t you remember? He once saved your life?”

Jude tightly gripped the fork, but his eyes were fixed on Mo Zimu. “Did you save my life?”

Mo Zimu lowered his eyes slightly, inhaled softly, and replied in an indifferent tone, “Maybe it doesn’t count.”

Jude sneered, emphasizing each word. “More like it was my mouth that saved your lives.” He pointed at Mo Zimu. “How about you put on the same show for Teabag today, and I’ll let Tom go?”

Teabag licked his lips, his expression laced with obscene amusement. “I heard that the quiet ones are always the best at deep-throating. I’m looking forward to it.” His men immediately stepped forward, surrounding Mo Zimu.

Mo Zimu remained silent for a moment before speaking evenly. “Teabag, I have a habit of clenching my jaw. If anything gets forced inside, I might just bite it off.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a lazy voice drawled from nearby, “That, I can confirm.”

The towering figure of Ivan appeared, his voice loud and clear. “For the record, he only blows me.”

Mo Zimu closed his eyes briefly. Jude sneered and said, “Doesn’t seem like you’re all that different from a common whore like me.”

Mo Zimu didn’t respond to the provocation. Ivan strode over and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Babe, come eat at my table.” His grip on Mo Zimu’s shoulder was firm, while Mo Zimu himself was still holding onto Tom’s arm.

Ivan turned his head slightly and grinned. “Let the cat go. Without him, there’ll still be plenty in the warehouse ending up like Uncle Norton.”

Teabag chuckled coldly. “Ivan, we’ve always minded our own business. What you’re doing right now is crossing the line, don’t you think?”

Ivan turned fully to face him, his tone casual but firm. “Teabag, your well water might not have flowed into my river, but since it’s already become my footbath, you might as well make an exception.”

He flicked his wrist, and suddenly, Jude’s fork was in his hand, pointed straight at his emerald-green eye. He smirked. “You wouldn’t want your partner losing something important, would you?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he shoved the fork into Tom’s ass. Amid Tom’s screams, he said, “Since this whole thing started with ass, let’s end it with one.”

Teabag inhaled deeply, his face showing signs of frustration, but he said nothing. His men released Tom.

Mo Zimu stepped forward to support him. From beginning to end, his expression hardly changed. Even when Ivan stabbed Tom, he barely reacted. It was only when Teabag’s men let go of Tom that he immediately helped him up and quickly left, without a single unnecessary movement.

Ivan watched the retreating pair, a faint smile playing on his lips.

This little conflict passed without escalating further, and the block returned to a temporary calm.

After the incident, Tom seemed to have learned his lesson. Having the name Tom did not mean he was actually a fearless cat. He realized that acting recklessly would only get him into trouble, so he went back to his old, slick and cautious ways.

As for Mo Zimu, he remained the same. The place he frequented most was still the library. He often sat on the windowsill reading, sometimes browsing the internet, and other times being pressed down by Ivan in various positions all over the library.

To most people, Mo Zimu was an exceptionally composed person. Even though it was obvious he had no choice but to share Ivan’s bed, even though he was forced to kneel while Norton branded Doomsday Judgment permanently onto his skin, and even when he was mocked by Teabag, Jude, and the others, he never lost control.

But on this particular day, when he saw a soft-featured young man in the visitation room, his calm finally shattered.