Inside the gloomy room, outdoor time had ended early. The Eldians filed back in and sat or lay down in their respective places, returning to their meaningless dazing or half-sleep.
Martin sat in the corner, still drowning in pain and despair over the fact that he would be sent to Paradise the next day.
Suddenly, he raised his head and looked at the tightly locked door—then turned to glance at the empty space beside him.
"That kid…"
Lillian had always sat next to him.
But now, the space was completely empty.
The door was locked…
A chill ran through him.
He reached beneath himself, where he had hidden a dagger.
It was gone.
His expression shifted—first anger, then contemplation—and finally transformed into wild, uncontrollable joy.
He suddenly leapt to his feet, rushed to the door, and slammed his hands against the iron gate with all his strength!
Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!
The other Eldians in the room all frowned as they looked at him, not understanding what he was trying to do.
Ka-cha—!
The sound of a lock opening came from outside. Immediately afterward, the door was kicked open.
Martin, unable to retreat in time, was knocked to the ground by the suddenly flung door. It smashed into his nose, and blood instantly poured out.
"Damn it!"
The Marleyan soldier who entered was holding a whip. Without saying a word, he lashed Martin once, viciously shouting:
"Why the hell are you banging on the door?! Looking to get whipped to death?!"
"N-no, no, no!"
Even after taking the whip, Martin still forced a smile, revealing teeth stained red by the blood flowing into his mouth.
"I want to report! I want to report! Someone escaped! That little brat ran away!"
"What?!"
The Marleyan soldier was shocked. His face turned extremely ugly—escape was a matter of the highest importance.
He immediately yanked Martin up and dragged him outside, urgently demanding as they went:
"When did it happen?!"
"Just now, just now! Right after outdoor time! When we came back, that brat was gone! He must have escaped!"
"Damn it!"
The soldier held Martin with one hand and pulled out his communicator with the other.
"This is bad! A damned Eldian has escaped!"
---
One minute earlier.
"Dum-de-dum, hmm-hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm."
Inside the guardhouse, the guard lounged with his legs crossed, newspaper in hand, humming happily to himself.
His job was extremely easy. Every day he just opened and closed gates. As for the Eldians, he never dealt with them. Those devils—there were plenty of soldiers inside to handle them.
"Wow, Car prices dropped again! No, when I get home I have to convince my wife—absolutely have to buy one. What kind of man doesn't even own a car—eh? Hey, hey, you there, kid!"
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a child with his cap brim pulled low, about to walk through the gate and leave.
He snapped the newspaper shut and shouted through the window:
"What are you doing?"
"It's really scary here. I want to go home!"
"Tch, who's your old man? Bringing a kid here, seriously…"
The guard glanced at the uniform on the child and the fear in his eyes, thinking the kid must've been frightened by how the soldiers treated the Eldians.
"Show your pass."
"My dad has it!"
"Mm…"
The guard hesitated, then waved his hand.
"Forget it, go on. Don't come here again. This isn't a place for brats like you. But no matter what you saw, remember—those Eldians are all devils. No matter how they're treated, it's never too much. Got it?"
"Okay!"
The child passed through the gate and turned the corner. Then he leaned against the outer wall, panting heavily. He raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead. The hand that had been hidden in his pocket, gripping a pistol, finally loosened.
"Good… not discovered."
Lillian whispered.
To be honest, when the guard asked for his pass just now, he had almost drawn the gun and fired.
But fortunately—fortunately—the guard wasn't that "dutiful."
Of course, this uniform and this child's body were also extremely deceptive.
Who would ever imagine that an Eldian child could get his hands on a set of Marleyan military clothes—and walk casually out the front gate without the slightest problem?
However, escaping the internment camp was only the beginning.
He still couldn't relax.
Lillian knew that with so many people in that room, someone would definitely report his escape.
As for why—
Human nature was simply like that. People couldn't stand seeing others do better than themselves. Especially people they weren't close to.
What's more, Marley had even issued a special policy to prevent Eldians from "banding together."
As long as one Eldian discovered another Eldian planning suspicious actions, and reported it in time, stopping it in time—
the informer would be granted the status of Honorary Marleyan.
Obviously, for the sake of that status, countless Eldians had already turned on their own people.
Rubbing his face to keep himself alert, Lillian noticed that there were still Marleyan soldiers patrolling outside. He did his best not to look strange, slightly quickened his pace, and headed toward the harbor not far away.
Not long after he left—a piercing alarm suddenly echoed throughout the entire internment camp.
"Someone has escaped! Repeat! Someone has escaped!"
"The target is a thirteen-year-old boy! Height approximately one meter fifty!"
"The target is armed with a sharp weapon and may be disguised—wearing military uniform!"
The loudspeakers' voices rang through the camp.
Inside the guardhouse, the guard who had been dreaming about driving around town after buying a car froze for several seconds.
Then, belatedly realizing what had happened, he let out a furious roar:
"Damn little brat!!!"
The entire internment camp erupted into motion.
Marleyan soldiers mobilized everywhere, the commotion massive.
---
At this moment, Martin had been taken into a room filled with Marleyan officers.
The instant he saw them, his legs went weak and he collapsed to his knees, his whole body trembling violently.
"What's your name?"
An officer standing at the front spoke.
His face was icy cold, and his hands clenched tightly behind his back, clearly suppressing his anger.
"Reporting, sir, I… I'm Martin. Martin Lewis."
"You're the one who reported it, right? That kid who escaped usually stayed beside you."
"Yes… yes…"
Cold sweat poured from Martin's body.
He couldn't understand why the escape of one small child had caused such a massive disturbance.
In the past, people had escaped before—usually they just sent out two vehicles to chase them down, and that was that.
But now…
Why had all the soldiers in the entire camp been mobilized?
This was the highest level of lockdown.
But—
It didn't matter.
I reported meritoriously!
As long as I get the status of a Honorary Marleyan, I won't have to go to Paradise anymore!
Martin continued, "Officer, sir, although I was sitting right beside him, I—I truly had no idea that brat was planning to escape! I didn't know anything at all! But the moment I realized that after exercise time ended he didn't return to the room, I immediately reported it!"
"..."
Hearing this, the officer fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Do you know what that brat did before he escaped from here?"
"W-what… what did he do…"
"He killed someone."
"Ah! Was it a noble Marleyan who was killed? That hateful little devil! Please, sirs, you must catch him! Punish him severely!"
"The one he killed," the officer said calmly, "was my son."
Martin froze slightly. Gathering his courage, he lifted his head and looked up. Only then did he realize that the officer who had been speaking all along was the man in charge of the entire internment camp—Major General Mastan.
"I-I'm terribly sorry about your son… I, I…"
"What are you trying to say."
Martin forced out a smile. "According to Marley's system, since I reported him… I should be able to become an Honorary Marleyan, right? I'm willing to enlist and become a soldier! To fight for Marley—"
Before he could finish speaking, he saw Mastan's hand fall upon the hilt of the saber hanging at his waist.
"M-Major General! You—you can't— …pff!"
Thud, thud.
Martin's head rolled twice across the ground before coming to a stop. His face was still frozen in shock, his eyes wide open, death unblinking.
Clang!
Mastan flung the saber to the ground. The rage he had suppressed for so long finally exploded. His face was flushed crimson, veins bulging violently along his neck, and he roared in a fury:
"Search! Find him! Find that damned little bastard! I will personally carve every strip of flesh from his body!"
"Yes!!"