Half an hour earlier.
Atiya watched with her own eyes as the green-bronze door closed again, locking that terrifyingly gaunt man back into darkness.
It was strange—the guards clearly demanded he do things, yet treated him like a prisoner.
But Atiya had no mind to ponder who this person was or why he was locked up here. For her, the most crucial thing was finding her great-uncle, neighbor brother, and teacher.
And right now, she could only recognize her teacher’s face.
When great-uncle was arrested, she was still very small with no memory of it. She’d only heard family members occasionally mention how clever and kind great-uncle had been, how he looked like her mother but had a cloud-shaped red birthmark on his neck.
So many years had passed—she wasn’t sure great-uncle was still alive. People said almost no prisoners could survive ten years in the AGW Special Dangerous Death Row Prison, and great-uncle had been here for over ten years.
Actually, the family knew his chances of survival were slim, but they avoided this topic, as if not mentioning it meant great-uncle was still alive and they’d meet again someday.
But Atiya, at her age, didn’t understand the meaning of escaping reality—she had to have a definite conclusion.
Then there was neighbor brother. They’d been separated for seven years. She remembered when she was five and he was ten, his family had just moved in, and she often went to play with him.
Brother was a very well-behaved Omega with long eyelashes and a tiny beauty mark by his eye. When he had nothing to do, he’d sit by the window hung with plastic bags, reading books.
These books were generally unwanted by the Tambu people—torn and old, every page filled with sand.
Books were the most worthless things in Utopia, too ashy even for kindling. No one cared what was written in them because it couldn’t fill stomachs.
Some books described the outside world, descriptions that caused pain to read, so many chose to avoid them.
But brother didn’t. Atiya still remembered pillowing her head on brother’s lap, watching him read through a tattered, incomplete book page by page. He’d use burnt charcoal to mark the books, stroke by stroke, very seriously.
Atiya’s initial understanding of this world all came from what neighbor brother told her. Her courage to run from Utopia and venture alone to the Loracity Icefield was inseparable from the courage, dreams, persistence, and other beautiful qualities from books that had been instilled in her over those four years.
Her values had formed under brother’s influence.
She remembered brother taking her to Garbage Mountain. Others picked through chicken bones, pig bones, camel meat, and broken furniture discarded by Tambu people, but brother didn’t care about those things—he only searched for books in the garbage.
“Atiya must remember, we cannot escape, cannot become numb. Even if it’s painful, we must keep learning. Knowledge brings hope. Someday, the light of civilization will shine on this barbarous land.”
Atiya didn’t understand. Those Utopia people were happy just filling their stomachs—how were they numb and escapist? They could list many things worth celebrating and being happy about. They were clearly living well.
Why did brother think this way? Why was he the only one who thought this way?
So when she was nine, brother secretly brought her to an abandoned wooden house at the alley’s end. He scraped away dirt from the ground, pulling out a plastic bag containing a stack of carefully preserved newspapers.
The newspapers had circular coffee stains that had turned light brown with age—clearly these papers had been used as coasters, then thrown to Garbage Mountain with other kitchen waste.
Brother carefully unfolded the newspapers, his eyes sparkling with something Atiya didn’t understand. He spread them on the ground, pointing to an article with many notes.
“My ideas come from this person. His name is Uriel—a Federation sociologist. His articles pointed the way for me, gave me strength to persevere. I’d rather suffer in awareness than sink into numbness. Atiya, someday you’ll understand—there are things more important than life itself. If more and more people understand this, Utopia’s dawn will come.”
Atiya was confused. She looked at those small characters, at the black and white photo printed in the newspaper. The man was unkempt, unshaven, with hair as thick as a lion’s mane, but his eyes held an indescribable compassion and determination.
“Uriel…” she murmured, vaguely feeling her blood grow hot and boiling.
Brother said excitedly, “The Tambu people are too careless—they haven’t even read these newspapers, which is why they threw them away as garbage. They don’t know how precious these thoughts are.”
“That’s wonderful!” Atiya became excited too.
Brother gestured animatedly: “You know what? Uriel said that in pre-Dawn Day history, there was once an engineer who, by himself, spent ten years building his own Rose Island Republic in the Adriatic Sea. It was civilized and prosperous, joyful and peaceful—a utopia nearly like the Tasman Pirate Nation!”
“Wow…” Atiya was stunned, her heart soaring.
Brother looked up through the damaged gaps in the wooden house toward the sky: “Many Utopians hope to become marine-type Awakened and join Tasman someday. But Uriel said we don’t need to seek Tasman or depend on others. Someday, we’ll have our own Rose Island Republic!”
Later, brother was arrested by Tambu people because of these newspapers.
Only then did Atiya understand—the Tambu people hadn’t failed to read these newspapers. They were just too arrogant, too arrogant to believe that lowly Utopians could harbor Rose Island dreams.
“Hurry up, they’re already fighting outside!” a guard urged.
“Hey, put the keys together with the rare lead ore keys. Don’t carry them around—what if you lose them?” another guard reminded.
“What’s to fear? Once we catch Black Lantern Society, the prison system will be back to normal. We won’t need keys at all.”
“Better send them back. It won’t take long.”
“Heh, I think you’re afraid to fight Black Lantern Society and looking for excuses to delay.”
“Screw you.”
The two guards cursed as they headed toward the storage room.
Atiya’s head turned back and forth, glancing upstairs one moment, at the two guards the next.
No time left—Black Lantern Society had already started their assault to rescue people, and she was still hiding on the bottom level. If she delayed further, she’d have no time to find anyone.
But… those were rare lead ore keys!
Atiya gritted her teeth, ran a few quick steps, and leaped with all her might, clinging to the guard’s boot.
She gripped the guard’s pant leg, being carried along by his steps toward the storage room.
This bottom level was truly another world. First, the green-bronze door’s location was quite remote and hard to discover. Second, the so-called storage room was actually a stone wall!
No, it just looked exactly like a stone wall. Atiya watched the guard knock around on the wall until he found a hollow spot. He pushed with his hand, and the wall opened, revealing a new space.
Atiya’s mouth fell open as she was carried into this place.
The room contained a safe embedded with rare lead ore. In the upper middle of the cabinet was a smartphone-sized piece of tempered glass. Through it, you could see many keys hanging inside, each numbered—presumably corresponding to specific handcuffs and shackles.
Atiya knew these cabinet keys were extremely precious. With them, prisoners’ fighting ability would be restored, and Utopians would have more chances to escape.
But she had no idea which handcuffs belonged to Utopians, nor could she carry away so many keys.
It was all because her ability was too weak—she couldn’t even shrink a thick, long down coat. She could only tell Black Lantern Society this information and let them retrieve the keys.
The safe door had a password. The guard pulled open the password cover and placed his finger on the keypad.
At Atiya’s current height, she couldn’t see what the password was, but she understood this was her only chance.
Atiya’s heart pounded like drums, her palms completely soaked with sweat. She knew if discovered, she’d surely die, but being so close, what reason was there not to try?
The guard pressed the first key, and the safe made a “beep” sound.
Atiya couldn’t hesitate. She quickly jumped down from the guard’s pant leg, returning to her original height. Now she could clearly see the letter the guard pressed was T.
Atiya’s blood flow accelerated, her pulse throbbing under her skin.
Then the second letter, the third letter…
The two guards focused on the password, not noticing her presence.
Atiya held her breath, eyes wide, trying to engrave each letter in her mind.
Click.
With a crisp sound, the safe lock retracted and the door popped open.
Atiya was still reviewing the password when the two guards’ gazes suddenly shifted from the password cover to that small piece of tempered glass!
The tempered glass was crystal clear, like a flat mirror, enough to reflect everyone’s shadow.
The moment Atiya saw her own reflection, her heart nearly stopped.
In the corridor.
The damage and tremors from the frozen soil layer reached every corner of the prison. Zhan Pingchuan and Lance were inevitably shaken and swayed.
“Holy shit! Earthquake?” Zhan Pingchuan braced against the wall, holding Lance, while Lance gripped Lily tightly. After a while, the tremors finally stopped completely.
Lance pressed against Zhan Pingchuan’s chest and immediately said, “Such a big commotion must be caused by abilities. Any news on the radio yet?”
Zhan Pingchuan pulled out the silent radio and shrugged helplessly. “They must have switched channels.”
Lance: “Looks like we’ll have to capture another one.”
Zhan Pingchuan looked at the straight, empty corridor ahead and chuckled. “The strange thing is, we can’t encounter a single guard now.”
They couldn’t have escaped the Federation’s sight. Since the old madman had moved them to this place, there must be a purpose.
Whether siege or human wave tactics, there should be a next move, but right now, there was truly no danger around them at all.
Benbu couldn’t be inviting them to play maze games.
Lance: “There’s only one path ahead—he probably wants to lead us somewhere.”
Lily complained, “Isn’t that just a trap? Who’d be stupid enough to jump in?”
Lily paused, then added, “Oh, Mr. Little Idiot, I didn’t mean you.”
Zhan Pingchuan: “…” You didn’t need to remind me.
Lance coughed lightly, changing the subject. “I guess when we reach a fixed position, the space will change again. Pay attention to the walls on both sides—some might not be walls, just visual errors.”
“No need for such trouble. He wants us to go forward, so we’ll go backward instead.” Zhan Pingchuan’s contrarian psychology kicked in.
“How do you—” Before Lance could finish, he saw Zhan Pingchuan raise his hand, summoning silver threads to drill into the wall behind them.
Tap tap tap tap…
The silver threads drilled into the stone wall like drill bits, sending up clouds of dust, quickly creating a twisted, person-high small door.
Zhan Pingchuan shook his hand, raised his foot, and kicked hard at the stone wall!
Scrape—
The already pierced stone door slid along the ground for a stretch and actually sank in!
Lily was already dumbfounded. She couldn’t understand why some people could be so abstract.
Zhan Pingchuan kicked several more times, kicking the cut stone door far enough away, then raised an eyebrow with a smile. “There, we’ll take this route.”
Lance: “…Alright.”
It wasn’t a bad method after all.
Zhan Pingchuan took off his outer coat and covered Lance’s head. “Be careful not to bump yourself. Sorry to make baby crawl through like a little fox.”
So Zhan Pingchuan led, Lance brought up the rear, Lily stayed in the middle, and the three crawled through the wall hole.
On the other side of the wall was a prison cell. In the narrow cell, four vicious criminals huddled together, staring at Zhan Pingchuan like wooden chickens.
This was their first time seeing such a scene—someone actually drilling holes into prison cells?
Zhan Pingchuan walked through modestly and politely. Reaching the cell door bars, he cleanly cut an opening with silver threads and stepped out. “Sorry to borrow a path, didn’t mean to interrupt your imprisonment.”
Prisoners: “…”
Their gazes followed this hero’s movement. In their confusion, the airtight cell had become a north-south ventilated, drafty room.
After Zhan Pingchuan walked out, he suddenly turned back and tapped the bars. “Hey, quick question—what floor is this?”
The prisoners mumbled, “Fourth floor.”
Zhan Pingchuan had an epiphany. “Oh…”
Oh what?
The prisoners all wondered in unison.
Zhan Pingchuan: “How do I get to the second floor?”
Prisoners: “…Don’t know.” Do you think this is a shopping mall and we’re store clerks?
Zhan Pingchuan looked them up and down, puzzled. “You’re still staying here? It’s chaos downstairs—why not escape in the confusion?”
The prisoners suddenly woke up and hurriedly crawled out of their cells.
Zhan Pingchuan smiled and used the same method on the fourth floor, opening cell doors and releasing a group of criminals.
“Go, go, go.” Zhan Pingchuan urged them to come out and cause trouble while looking for stairs to go up.
Lance followed behind him, carefully observing the corridor’s structure and occasionally testing the walls on both sides.
His gaze would occasionally sweep over some prisoners, but most were gaunt and disheveled—nothing worth looking at.
Lance stepped forward to take Zhan Pingchuan’s hand, about to suggest they could help Atiya ask about the Utopians’ whereabouts. Just then, his peripheral vision caught a cell with only one prisoner. In just half a second, he hastily turned away, his gaze falling on Zhan Pingchuan.
“We—”
Lance had just said two words when his voice suddenly stopped, his eyes instantly widening.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Zhan Pingchuan noticed his pause.
“Something’s wrong!”
Lance suddenly turned his head, wanting to look at that prisoner again, but before his gaze could focus, the ground suddenly spun!
—
**
(advanced chapters available on kofi)
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152