In a cramped little square, over a hundred Eldians wandered aimlessly. Occasionally two would stop to exchange a few words, only to separate nervously moments later. Most simply drifted about, expressions bleak, like walking corpses.
In a shadowed corner, Lillian squatted against the wall, coldly observing the surroundings.
This was "outdoor time."
Every afternoon from 3 p.m. to 4 p.m., the Eldians confined in the camp were allowed out into this narrow square to move around—though "move around" was all they were allowed to do.
His gaze lifted toward the perimeter.
The square was enclosed by a three-meter-high barbed-wire fence. At the front and back stood two watchtowers, each manned by three soldiers, each tower equipped with a mounted machine gun.
If the Eldians dared to riot, let alone scaling the fence, once those machine guns opened fire—spraying bullets from above—anyone who caused trouble would be shredded into pieces in minutes.
Under such deterrence, no one even dared to think about escape.
No one except Lillian.
"The ship leaves the day after tomorrow. I can't delay. I have to escape tomorrow night and reach the harbor…"
Escape was possible.
For example, Lillian had escaped before.
Unfortunately, he had been spotted by a soldier, chased down, and executed with a single shot to the head.
So how had he escaped that time?
The method was actually very simple.
It relied on the advantages of this body.
In this internment camp, he was the only thirteen-year-old child. All the other Eldians were generally sixteen or older, their bodies already developed.
As for Lillian—
Because of his young age, coupled with life in the camp and severe malnutrition, he was now thin and short, not even one meter fifty centimeters tall…
At one spot along the encircling barbed-wire fence, there was a small breach.
That tiny hole was concealed by overgrown weeds, and it was through this opening that he had crawled out before. To this day, the Marleyan soldiers still hadn't discovered it. In fact, their inspection efforts were laughably lax.
Why?
Simply because ever since the members of the "Eldian Restorationist" organization had been purged, the remaining Eldians had all but abandoned resistance, allowing the Marleyan soldiers to do as they pleased. And so, toward this group of beaten, spiritless losers, Marley naturally no longer paid much attention.
This could be seen clearly from the lax attitude of the guards. Every day they drank alcohol and played cards. They didn't even bother patrolling. They were not the least bit worried about Eldians escaping or staging a revolt.
And in truth, their confidence wasn't misplaced.
Lillian could see it plainly: the Eldians here had already undergone what could only be called spiritual castration. Accustomed to obedience and submission, they would never rise up to resist.
On the contrary—if you told them you intended to rebel, they might very well sell you out just to earn the chance at becoming an "Honorary Marleyan."
Thus, Lillian could trust no one.
He could rely only on himself.
Soon, outdoor time ended, and everyone was once again locked back inside the room.
---
As usual, Lillian curled up in a corner, silently working through the finer details of his escape plan.
At present, it seemed his only opportunity to escape would be during outdoor time tomorrow afternoon.
At all other times, they were locked inside this room—no windows, the door secured with a lock. Escape was impossible. So he could only act during outdoor time.
After escaping this section, he would still need to find a way out through the main gate.
This internment camp was enormous. The area he was confined in was merely one small, block-like section carved out of it. Leaving this section meant passing through a massive main gate. And after that, he would still need to make his way to the harbor.
Fortunately, the camp had been built right next to the port.
So as long as he could get through the main gate, it would only take a few minutes to reach the harbor. After that, he'd have to locate a ship heading for the island—and then figure out how to sneak aboard.
In short, the entire sequence left no room for error.
If even one step went wrong, everything would collapse.
After all, even though he could resurrect, no one knew when the next ship to the island would depart. He couldn't afford to wait.
"What should I do… what should I do…"
Uncle Martin, sitting beside him, clutched his head and muttered in agony. Cloudy tears streamed continuously from his eyes, dripping onto the floor and quickly soaking a wide patch.
Lillian watched him, helpless.
He himself was just an ordinary person—no, worse than that. He was a child. This body couldn't even beat a middle school student in a fight. He could barely protect himself, let alone anyone else.
If he were like other transmigrators, starting at level 999, then he could naturally save Uncle Martin—hell, he could even go on a rampage, slaughter all the guards, and liberate every Eldian in the camp.
But unfortunately, he started out as nothing more than cannon fodder.
So there was no point dreaming.
"I'd rather become a demon… no—no, I'd rather just die!"
Uncle Martin suddenly growled in a low voice, his hand reaching beneath him.
Lillian's eyes widened.
When Martin pulled his hand back out, he was gripping a short dagger.
How was that possible?!
Lillian was utterly stunned. Everyone brought in here had been thoroughly searched. Forget daggers—even a toothpick wasn't supposed to get through.
And yet—
Wait.
A memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
He remembered now.
A month ago, a Marleyan soldier had accidentally lost a dagger during patrol. Afterward, the soldiers had searched every room one by one—but found nothing.
So that was it.
Uncle Martin had hidden it.
Martin gripped the dagger, as if about to plunge it into his own chest. But when the blade touched his skin, his hand began to tremble violently. He couldn't bring himself to stab.
In the end, he let out a low sigh, gave up, and once again stuffed the dagger back behind him.
"…."
Throughout the entire episode, Lillian was the only witness.
Everyone else had their heads lowered, half-asleep—just as always. For people who had already lost all hope of living, there was little difference between life and death.
Lillian took a deep breath. The flicker of light in his eyes dimmed as he slowly closed them.
---
The Next Day, Afternoon
Bang!
The door was violently kicked open.
The Marleyan soldier looked at the people inside as if they were trash and barked, "Get out! Time for outdoor time!"
The prisoners rose and filed out, one by one. Soon, everyone had exited.
When the soldier saw the last one come out, he couldn't help but kick him to the ground.
"Damn little brat! What are you dragging your feet for?!"
"I—I'm sorry…"
"Get moving!"
Lillian nodded frantically. As he turned away, a flash of ferocity passed through his eyes.
He quickly walked to the corner he always used during outdoor time—right next to one of the watchtowers. It also happened to be a blind spot for the other tower. From here, neither side's guards could see his small, frail body.
His hand brushed against the cold object hidden against his thigh.
Lillian pressed his lips together.
The reason he had deliberately lingered at the back was to wait until Uncle Martin left, retrieve the dagger hidden under the hay, and tuck it into his pants before coming out.
After all—
"Uncle Martin… since you can't make up your mind anyway, I'll be taking this dagger."