In a cramped little square, hundreds of Eldians wandered aimlessly. Occasionally, two people would gather to exchange a few words, but they quickly separated, glancing around nervously. Most people just roamed with blank faces, like the walking dead.
In a dark corner, Rayan squatted against the wall, coldly observing the surroundings.
It was "exercise" time, from 3 pm to 4 pm every day. During this hour, the Eldians locked in the internment camp were allowed to come out and move around within this narrow square. However, it was merely moving around, nothing more.
Rayan's gaze drifted toward the square's perimeter. The area was enclosed by a barbed wire fence that stood three meters high, and there were two watchtowers stationed at the front and back. Each tower had three soldiers on duty, and each was equipped with a mounted machine gun.
If the Eldians dared to riot, it would not even matter that the fence was difficult to climb. The tongues of fire from the machine guns would instantly shred anyone who tried. Under this constant threat, no one dared to entertain thoughts of escaping, except for Rayan.
The ship leaves the day after tomorrow. I cannot delay any longer. I must escape tomorrow night and reach the port.
There was actually a chance to escape.
Rayan had even tried before. Unfortunately, he was spotted by a soldier during his escape attempt and was caught and shot in the head.
So how had he managed to escape that time?
The method had been surprisingly simple. He had relied on the advantage of his small body.
In this internment camp, Rayan was the only thirteen-year-old child. The other Eldians were mostly over sixteen years old, their bodies already matured. In contrast, Rayan, because of his young age and the poor nutrition inside the camp, remained thin and short, standing less than one point five meters tall.
There was a part of the barbed wire fence where a small hole had formed, hidden beneath a tangle of overgrown weeds. Rayan had crawled through it during his previous escape. The Marleyan soldiers still had not discovered this gap, and their inspection routines were extremely lax.
Why? Because after the "Eldian Restorationists" were purged, almost all of the remaining Eldians had abandoned any thoughts of resistance. They surrendered to their fate, allowing the Marleyans to do as they pleased. Naturally, the guards grew careless. They spent their days drinking, playing cards, and rarely bothered to patrol. They had no fear that the Eldians would escape or rebel.
It was understandable. Rayan could see clearly that the Eldians had been spiritually broken. They had grown accustomed to submission. If anyone even whispered about rebellion, they would likely be sold out by their fellow prisoners in exchange for the pitiful status of "honorary Marleyan."
Thus, Rayan knew he could trust no one. He could only rely on himself.
Soon, exercise time ended, and everyone was herded back into their windowless rooms.
Rayan huddled into his usual corner, lost in thought as he mapped out the final details of his plan.
His only chance to escape was during tomorrow afternoon's exercise time. At any other time, they would be locked inside the windowless room with the door barred. Escape would be impossible.
After slipping through the hole in the fence, he still had to figure out how to get through the main gate. The internment camp was massive. The area Rayan was confined to was only a small isolated section. To reach the outside world, he had to pass through the main gate that separated their section from the larger compound. Beyond that, it was just a short dash to the port.
Fortunately, the camp was built right next to the port. If he managed to get through the gate, he could reach the docks within minutes. After that, he would have to find a ship heading toward the island and find a way to sneak aboard.
In short, if any part of this chain failed, it would all end in disaster.
Even though he could revive, he had no idea when the next ship would arrive. He could not afford to fail or wait.
What should I do... what should I do...
Next to him, an uncle named Martin was clutching his head, muttering in anguish. Tears streamed from his cloudy eyes, dripping onto the dusty ground and forming a dark wet patch. Rayan watched him in silence, feeling helpless.
He was just an ordinary person. No, he was even less than that. Just a child. His body was so frail that he could not even win against a middle school student, let alone protect anyone else.
If he had been like those other transmigrators, starting at level 999, he could have saved Uncle Martin, slaughtered the guards, and liberated every Eldian trapped in this wretched place. But reality was cruel. He had been reborn as a weakling. Fantasizing about heroism was pointless.
Rather than becoming a devil... it is better... better to just die...
Uncle Martin whispered brokenly. His trembling hand reached behind him. When Rayan saw what he pulled out, his breath caught in his throat.
A dagger.
How?
He was stunned. Everyone locked inside had been thoroughly searched. Forget a dagger. They were not even allowed to keep a toothpick. Yet here it was, gleaming coldly in Uncle Martin's hand.
Wait.
A memory flickered in Rayan's mind. About a month ago, a Marleyan soldier had lost his dagger during a patrol. A massive search had been conducted, but nothing was found. So it had been Martin all along. He had hidden it.
Martin gripped the dagger tightly, the blade trembling against his chest. For a moment, it seemed he would plunge it into his heart. But when the tip pressed against his skin, his courage failed him. His hands shook. He let out a long broken sigh and slipped the dagger back under the hay behind him.
Throughout the entire ordeal, Rayan was the only one who saw.
Everyone else remained slumped, heads lowered in a lifeless stupor. For these people, there was no longer a difference between life and death.
Rayan drew in a deep breath. The light in his eyes dimmed, and slowly he closed them.
The next day, in the afternoon.
Bang.
The door slammed open with a deafening crash. A Marleyan soldier glared at the crowd as if he were looking at a pile of garbage.
"All of you, get out for exercise!"
The prisoners rose listlessly and shuffled toward the door. One by one, they exited the room. When the last figure lagged behind, the soldier lashed out with a brutal kick, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Damn it, kid! Why are you dawdling back there!"
"S sorry..."
"Hurry up and get out!"
Rayan stumbled to his feet and nodded hastily. But as he turned away, a flash of ferocity crossed his eyes.
He moved quickly to the familiar corner where he always squatted during exercise time. This spot was next to one watchtower but conveniently hidden from the view of the other. Here, the soldiers on either side could not see his small figure.
His fingers brushed against the cold weight hidden against his thigh. Rayan tightened his lips grimly.
The reason he had lingered at the back was simple. After Uncle Martin had gone outside, he had snatched the dagger hidden under the hay and slipped it into his own pants.
After all...
Uncle Martin, you could not bring yourself to do it anyway. I will take this dagger.
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