Every inmate in Ironhold Penitentiary was a monster wearing human skin — the kind of criminal who could be executed ten tis over and still co out owing society a debt.
In this world, committing atrocities required power.
A thousand years ago, the Evolution Rain reshaped Blue Star. Animals and plants awakened evolutionary energy, their cells mutating into strange, terrifying forms.
Humans alone remained unchanged.
Facing waves of evolved beasts, humanity fought with guns, grit, and desperation.
That war lasted five hundred years — the Evolution War.
During that era, humans finally discovered their own path to evolution. One powerhouse after another rose, pushing back the beasts until the war ended.
Human evolution worked differently:
they had to absorb extracts from higher‑tier organisms, and only then did they have a chance to evolve.
It was harder than the natural evolution of beasts and plants — but the payoff was enormous.
At the sa tier, humans reigned supre.
The higher the tier, the wider the gap. Saint‑tier humans could routinely hunt Saint‑tier beasts; the strongest could even fight above their level.
Each evolution required three vials of extract from higher‑tier organisms. Every absorption boosted physical attributes and granted a random ability from the donor creature.
Take Evan’s neighbor — the one he privately nicknad the Vampire.
A two‑ti evolved Chrysalis‑tier criminal, he possessed blood‑draining and blood‑manipulation abilities. He had kidnapped and trafficked thousands, keeping them as “blood livestock.” Over two hundred had died under his feeding.
His blood‑draining ca from a leech‑type beast.
His blood‑control ca from a third‑tier mosquito‑beast.
Across from Evan was another inmate — a skeletal, sickly‑looking middle‑aged man Evan called the Ghoul.
Despite his frail appearance, he was also Chrysalis‑tier, capable of controlling corpses. He had slaughtered an entire village and turned the dead into an army of shambling puppets.
Evan often felt he wasn’t twisted enough to belong here.
He single‑handedly lowered the prison’s average power level.
Ironhold existed specifically to contain high‑tier, death‑row evolutionists. Ordinary criminals weren’t even qualified to be locked up here.
Evan’s presence here was thanks to the king’s “special attention.”
Fortunately, Arden had been peaceful for decades under the deterrence of its four‑ti evolved Saint‑tier monarch. Most cells in Ironhold were empty.
Only Evan, the Vampire, and the Ghoul were housed in this wing — all scheduled for execution tomorrow morning.
Which ant these two psychos were the only allies he could possibly use.
“Hey,” Evan whispered. “You want to break out of here?”
The Vampire snorted.
“If you’re bored, bang your head on the wall a few more tis. Don’t bother .”
Evan ignored the contempt. Convincing them wasn’t hard — as long as they believed escape was possible. They were dead n walking; failure ant death, but success ant freedom.
“You really want your glorious career of cri to end here?” Evan said. “At least hear the plan before you dismiss it.”
“You? A plan?” The Vampire laughed. “You were born with everything and still managed to land yourself on death row. I’m not trusting a moron’s plan.”
Evan had no coback. Even he didn’t know why Liam Zhao had thrown his life away. Liam wasn’t stupid or lust‑crazed — he was ambitious, ruthless, and never lacked won.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not ant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
There had to be more behind Princess Seraphine’s murder.
But that mystery could wait.
Survival ca first.
Unbothered, Evan continued,
“I have a preliminary plan. But it requires all three of us. We’ll refine the details together.”
“You can keep laughing,” he added, “or you can help improve the plan and gamble for a chance at freedom.”
Silence.
After a long mont, the Vampire spoke again, voice low.
“You’re not the first to dream of escaping. Ironhold’s been around for over a century. Plenty of Butterfly‑tier criminals have been locked up here. Not one succeeded. Why should I believe you can?”
“Forget everything else,” he continued. “The hallway caras alone are monitored twenty‑four hours a day. One wrong move and the warden — a Butterfly‑tier evolutionist — will be here in seconds.”
Evan cut him off.
“What if I can shut down the caras?”
“How?” the Vampire demanded.
“I’m weaker than you,” Evan said calmly, “but in terms of identity? You’re not even qualified to shine my shoes. What you can’t do, I might be able to.”
He paused.
“You know who I am. And you know what money can do.”
Another long silence.
Then the Vampire asked,
“What do you need from ?”
Evan smiled. Hooked.
“First, help open the cell door.”
“Impossible. The control panel is fifty ters away. My blood manipulation only works within ten ters. And the panel requires a captain‑level guard’s fingerprint.”
“Then get a captain’s fingerprint. That shouldn’t be hard for you.”
“And,” Evan added lightly, “you’ll need to kill soone.”
“Who?”
“You’ll know when the ti cos.”
Evan exhaled.
“Now let’s bring the Ghoul into the discussion.”
——
Around noon, footsteps echoed down the corridor — lunch delivery.
Even feeding prisoners here was dangerous. Every al delivery was escorted by a guard captain.
“Eat a chicken leg,” the guard said to the Vampire. “Good al for your last day.”
Evan perked up.
Chicken. Finally.
He rushed to the door window, spotting a young guard carrying trays and a burly captain behind him.
A mont later, a cold, rock‑hard bun was tossed into his cell.
Evan stared at it.
“Where’s my chicken leg?”
In Arden, death‑row inmates usually received a better al the day before execution. Clearly, Evan was being singled out.
The captain chuckled.
“Master Liam, after what you did, you’re lucky we’re feeding you at all.”
The two guards turned to leave.
“Captain, wait!” Evan called. “I need a favor.”
The captain paused. After a mont, he told the young guard, “Go on ahead.”
He stepped up to Evan’s door.
“What do you want?”
Evan exhaled in relief. This was the most uncertain part of the plan — whether the captain would even listen.
“I need you to deliver a ssage to my family. The Zhao household won’t let you run errands for free.”
The captain neither agreed nor refused.
“What ssage?”
“Lean closer,” Evan said.
The captain hesitated, but Liam Zhao was an unevolved civilian. He posed no threat. The captain stepped forward, placing a hand on the tal door.
He didn’t notice the tiny beads of blood sliding across the surface, forming a faint fingerprint.
Evan whispered,
“Find a man nad Zhao Qiang. Ask him, ‘Where did the doll go?’”
He paused.
“And tell him I’d like one good al before I die.”
The captain frowned at the cryptic ssage but didn’t question it. He turned and left.
Evan knew that ant yes — the captain simply couldn’t act openly under surveillance.
Not long after leaving the prison, the captain drove straight to the Zhao estate.
Despite Liam’s cri, Arden wasn’t a feudal monarchy. Families weren’t punished by association. Elias Zhao still held power, and his “righteous” act of turning in his own son had earned public praise.
The Zhao family remained influential — well worth a guard captain’s visit.
Back in the prison, Evan called out to his neighbors,
“You two don’t like chicken, right? Why not give yours to ?”
Silence.
Evan tried again.
“You’re Chrysalis‑tier evolutionists. You could go ten days without food. I’m just a fragile mortal. If I starve and ss up the plan, that’s on you.”
He paused.
“You don’t want the escape to fail, do you?”
Reviews
All reviews (0)