Chapter Two: The Uprising

Hours slipped by, their passage unmarked except by the sudden, shrill ringing that shattered Zhou Yi’s thoughts. The corridor erupted with the clamor of boots and the metallic clatter of locks being opened.

It was mealtime—afterward, there would be half an hour of recreation. Unless you were too ill to move, everyone was required to go out for the meal and the brief taste of freedom.

Zhou Yi stood as his cell door swung open. Alderson, wielding a rubber baton, barked at them relentlessly.

“Move it! Faster! Lunch is served—unless you’re waiting for room service? Don’t make me lose my temper, or your recreation time will suffer for it!”

Pausing at Zhou Yi’s cell, a guard opened the door. Alderson cast a cursory glance inside before moving on to the next.

Alderson relished tormenting prisoners, thriving on their fear, their trembling, their screams. Yet Zhou Yi never drew his attention—perhaps because he was so unresponsive, as lifeless as the dead.

One by one, the prisoners filed out, hastily forming a line before marching down the corridor, watched by armed guards who fixed them with cold, unblinking stares.

Each inmate paused at the end of the hallway, standing on a detection platform for three seconds. An X-ray-like scanner locked onto the spot where a chip had been implanted in their bodies, flashed once, and reset for the next. At the same time, a string of numbers—each inmate’s identification code—appeared on an adjacent screen.

The chip’s location varied: some bore it at the nape of the neck, others on the arm or chest. It could only be removed upon release.

Everyone kept in line, mimicking those ahead. When Zhou Yi’s turn came, he watched the scanner closely; it lingered at his abdomen. The screen flickered: 142857.

He sneezed, glancing down as a red light briefly glimmered three finger-widths above his navel. His movement drew a wary look from a nearby guard. Zhou Yi quickly rubbed his nose, murmured an apology, and stepped aside.

The line moved forward, silent save for Alderson’s shouts. Prisoners passed through a corridor into the cafeteria, queued with hands raised to scan plastic wristbands, received their trays, then lined up for food.

Zhou Yi took his meal to a corner and began to eat. The previously hushed cafeteria now buzzed with conversation as familiar faces clustered together. Once, Zhou Yi had company, but his silence had made him an island.

This was Block B of Mist City Prison—the high-security wing, reserved for those sentenced to fifteen years or more. It was a microcosm of society, with its own hierarchy. The undisputed leader was Aiden, a towering figure with silver hair, blue eyes, and tattoos at his temples and jaw.

Aiden chatted with his circle, occasionally glancing at Warden Alderson. Raising his glass of milk, he offered a smile; though unacknowledged, he was not rebuked. Clearly, their relationship was not ordinary.

“Aiden, Alderson’s watching you. Guess that little guy didn’t snitch last night—he must have enjoyed our hospitality!” one of his followers joked.

“Let’s keep it going tonight. Just thinking about my little brother’s getting me excited—look, he’s already stirring!” another chimed in, drawing laughter.

“Behave, all of you. Don’t let things get out of hand—we don’t need a corpse on our hands,” Aiden chided, accepting a slice of ham from his underling William, who’d been the one beaten earlier.

William, his left arm in a sling, quickly placed the last piece of ham from his tray onto Aiden’s plate, diffusing the tension.

Finishing his meal, Zhou Yi carried his tray a few steps toward the center, crouching beside a table. His prison-issued shoes, lacking laces and slightly too large, slipped off—a common enough occurrence to draw no notice.

While the group around Aiden chatted, Zhou Yi covertly reached behind him, fingers finding the stainless steel cart at his side. He swiftly loosened three of the four bolts holding its frame.

He’d observed this cart for days: the bottom wheels were jammed, and four bolts alone supported the top. It held a gas stove and a vat of soup, with stacks of porcelain plates beside it. Though food was rationed, the soup was unlimited.

Just as Alderson glanced over, Zhou Yi rose and carried his tray to the washing area, the three removed bolts hidden in his mouth. The last bolt was barely holding.

His heart pounded as he concealed the bolts under his tongue. Outwardly calm, he made his way to the yard, where prisoners could roam freely—though the five-meter-high walls, electrified wire, and armed guards on every watchtower left no illusions of escape.

Warden Alderson emerged, flanked by two armed guards, cigarette in hand, surveying the yard.

Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes. In such a fortress, brute force was futile. He needed an incident—something big enough to draw outside attention.

The following day at noon, in the Mist City Prison cafeteria, Zhou Yi waited in line, glancing at the wall clock: 12:33. He collected his tray, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face at the sight of hazelnuts—Friday’s nut day had not disappointed.

He took his usual spot at the corner table, positioning himself behind the cart, most of his body obscured.

Aiden lounged at his table, jiggling his leg as he waited for William to bring his tray.

Zhou Yi picked a few hazelnuts from his plate and rolled them toward Aiden’s table, along with the three bolts, careful not to draw attention. It was common enough for food to fall on the spotless floor; the small clatter passed unnoticed.

He bent to eat. Just then, William approached awkwardly, balancing two trays with his good arm.

“Aiden, today there’s fried fish and hazelnuts—it’s your favori—ah—!”

William’s foot landed on a bolt. He pitched forward, both trays flying toward Aiden.

Aiden, facing William, leapt up in alarm, knocking over his chair as he tried to dodge.

Behind him, Alderson turned at the commotion just as the trays hurtled toward them. Instinctively, he grabbed the towering Aiden and shoved him forward.

At that precise moment, Zhou Yi seized his chance. With everyone’s attention elsewhere, he kicked the cart with all his strength. The locked wheels resisted, but the jolt sent the cart sliding. The soup vat and plates teetered, then cascaded down. Scalding soup drenched Aiden’s head and arms as he lurched forward.

He howled, clutching his face, but slipped on shattered plates and crashed into the cart.

With only one bolt remaining, the impact snapped it. The cart’s surface collapsed with the soup vat, leaving four steel posts jutting upward.

Aiden fell onto one, the steel rod spearing his chest.

His eyes widened in terror. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came. His hands flailed among the shards, then fell still. Guards rushed to contain the chaos.

“Hands on your heads! Everyone, get down!” someone shouted.

The hall erupted. Zhou Yi tossed away his tray, slipped a fork up his sleeve, and dragged William down beside him. William trembled uncontrollably, unable to process the sudden violence. The guards leveled their guns, shouting commands, but confusion reigned.

Alderson, furious, spat on the floor, drew his pistol, and fired into the ceiling.

Bang!

In that instant, Zhou Yi pressed the fork into William’s hand and, before he could react, slammed his left elbow into William’s temple.

He’d timed it perfectly: a guard was approaching William’s side.

Caught off-guard, William toppled sideways, instinctively reaching out with his good hand—still holding the fork—which plunged into the guard’s abdomen, tearing a long gash as he fell.

It happened in a heartbeat. As Zhou Yi delivered the blow, he ducked under a table, shielding himself with an overturned chair.

The stabbed guard screamed, kicking William away and wrenching the fork free, blood and viscera spilling out. Seeing his own insides was too much; the guard collapsed to his knees.

As he fell, he reflexively raised his gun and emptied a burst into William and those nearby. William’s body jerked with each bullet, holes riddling his frame, before he collapsed in a spreading pool of blood, his eyes still fixed in Zhou Yi’s direction.