10: Chapter 10 The Scorpion Beauty's "Care" and the Drawing in the Dark

At five in the morning, the sky in Northern Myanmar had not yet fully brightened, and the air was filled with a damp cold and a musty smell.

"Clang—!"

With a loud bang, the rusty iron door was kicked open violently, slamming heavily against the wall and shaking off a layer of plaster.

"Get up! Everyone get the hell up! You bunch of lazy pigs, the sun is already hitting your asses and you're still sleeping! Don't you want to live anymore?!"

The thugs holding rubber batons rushed into the dormitory; they truly treated people like cattle.

Even if they were still dreaming, even if their bodies were exhausted, the "pigs" on the shared bunks sprang up like they had been electrocuted, their movements numb and swift.

Here, being a second too slow might mean being met with a brutal beating.

Zhang Cheng blended into the crowd, his eyes appearing dull but actually clear.

After a night of rest, although this dump stank to high heaven, his spirit was exceptionally energized.

Breakfast was thin porridge not even fit for pig feed, with a few rotten vegetable leaves floating in it.

Zhang Cheng gulped it down in a few mouthfuls and followed the line into the so-called "office area."

This place used to be a factory building, but it had now been converted into a fraud assembly line.

Hundreds of old computers hummed, and the densely packed workstations were crammed together like pigeon cages.

The air was suffocatingly foul; the smell of sweat, foot odor, instant noodles, and that bone-deep aura of despair blended into a nauseating stench.

"To your stations! Today's quota is twenty thousand per person! Those who don't finish will go to the water dungeon tonight to sober up!"

The supervisor swung an electric baton in his hand, the crackling blue electric arcs looking especially menacing in the dim light.

Zhang Cheng was assigned to a workstation in the corner.

On the table sat a tattered "Script Manual" and an old-fashioned landline phone.

"Hello, this is the XX City Public Security Bureau..."

"Congratulations, you've won a prize..."

The sound of phone calls rang out one after another all around.

Everyone wore a mask of pain, yet their mouths spoke the most pleasing lies.

Zhang Cheng picked up the script manual and flipped through it, pretending to work.

He didn't make any calls, but instead silently calculated in his mind.

"At the three o'clock position, there is a hidden sentry behind the load-bearing pillar."

"At the ten o'clock position, the surveillance camera has a blind spot, but it also covers the main passage."

"The main gate has an electronic lock, and the control room is on the west side of the second floor."

In his mind, he mapped the system's map to the actual scene before him, constructing a tactical attack and defense plan accurate to the centimeter.

Just then, the sound of high heels striking the ground abruptly pierced through the noisy background.

"Click, click, click."

The sound was crisp and arrogant, completely out of place with the surrounding environment.

A strong scent of perfume drifted over—the smell of cheap cosmetics, yet enough to mask the musty odor of the place.

Zhang Cheng didn't need to look up to know who had arrived—Lin Weiwei.

"Yo, isn't this our top university student, Zhang Cheng?"

A delicate, coquettish voice rang out, carrying three parts mockery and seven parts malice.

Lin Weiwei was wearing a tight red hip-hugging dress today, her makeup heavy, looking like a blood-gorged demon.

She was arm-in-arm with a man whose face was covered in scars; he was the leader here.

She stood before Zhang Cheng, looking down at the man she had once played in the palm of her hand, now a prisoner.

"How is it? Are you satisfied with this 'work environment'?"

Lin Weiwei covered her nose, as if afraid of being tainted by the stench of poverty on Zhang Cheng. "I specifically asked Scarface to save you a window seat so you can get some air."

The surrounding "pigs" cast furtive glances; some with sympathy, some with numbness.

Zhang Cheng slowly raised his head.

His face did not show the anger, breakdown, or begging that Lin Weiwei had expected.

He just looked at her calmly, his eyes as deep as a dried-up well.

"It's quite good."

Zhang Cheng said indifferently, "The scenery here is indeed not bad."

Lin Weiwei was taken aback; this reaction was wrong!

He should be kneeling down to beg me, or cursing at me like a mad dog!

This calmness made her feel inexplicably uncomfortable, like punching a ball of cotton.

"Pretend! Go ahead and keep pretending!"

Lin Weiwei sneered, a flash of ruthlessness in her eyes. "Zhang Cheng, don't blame me for being cruel. Blame yourself for being stupid, a toad lusting after a swan's flesh. Did you really think I would ever fall for a loser like you? Why don't you take a piss and look at your own reflection!"

The Scarface beside her leered and wrapped his arm around her waist, one hand wandering restlessly over her body. "Baby, why waste words on a pig? For trash like this, once we've squeezed out his value in a couple of days, we'll just sell him off to have his parts harvested."

"Oh, you~"

Lin Weiwei playfully punched Scarface, but when she turned back to look at Zhang Cheng, the coquettish smile on her face instantly turned into frost. "Did you hear that? Work hard and earn more money for me. Maybe if I'm in a good mood, I'll let you live a couple more days."

After saying this, she walked away, swinging her hips like a proud peacock.

Zhang Cheng watched her retreating back, his gaze gradually shifting downward to land on her red high heels.

"Red... it suits you well. I hope that in the future, you will still like the color red this much."

He said softly in his heart, a flash of imperceptible murderous intent crossing his eyes.

Throughout the entire day, Zhang Cheng was "slacking off."

He would either pretend to have a stomach ache to go to the bathroom or make excuses to wander by the water dispenser to get a drink.

In reality, he was using every movement to frantically scan every corner of the compound.

"The drainage ditch outside the bathroom window leads directly to the mountain behind; it's an escape route and also an excellent assault point."

"Behind the cafeteria, there is a small, detached bungalow with two guard dogs at the entrance; it is highly likely an armory or generator room."

"The electric wire on the perimeter wall carries a very high voltage, but there is a patrol gap every fifteen minutes."

All the data and every detail were recorded one by one in his mind, transmitted via his will to the system, and synchronized to the tactical terminals of every Death Soldier.

This was his confidence.

In the evening, because his "performance was zero," Zhang Cheng indeed did not receive any dinner.

He was driven back to that foul-smelling "pigsty" dormitory.

Hunger burned in his stomach like fire, but he sat cross-legged in the corner, closing his eyes to rest and adjusting his physical state.

A great battle was imminent; he had to maintain absolute calm.

At this moment, a thin, withered hand quietly reached out, holding half a piece of compressed biscuit warmed by body heat.

"Eat something, newcomer."

A very low voice sounded in his ear.

Zhang Cheng opened his eyes and saw a haggard face.

It was a woman in her twenties with messy hair, sunken eye sockets, and arms covered in bruises, but in her eyes, there remained a trace of unextinguished, human kindness.

Her name was Li Lanzhi.

Zhang Cheng remembered that when he was locked in yesterday, she was the one who gave a sip of water to the little girl next to her who had cried until she fainted.

"Why help me?"

Zhang Cheng did not take it, just looked at her.

In this man-eating place, kindness often meant death or a trap.

"I see that you... are different from the others."

Li Lanzhi smiled bitterly and forced the biscuit into Zhang Cheng's hand. "There is no death aura in your eyes. And... when you stood up to that woman today, you were quite manly."

"My name is Li Lanzhi, and I've been tricked into coming here for over a month."

She pulled her hand back, hugging her knees, her gaze somewhat unfocused. "I used to work in finance, a master's degree from a prestigious university... Heh, what's the use of saying that now? Here, we are not even as good as dogs."

"Don't give up."

Zhang Cheng squeezed the half-biscuit, feeling the residual warmth, and suddenly said in a low voice, "Perhaps, the sky is about to brighten."

"Brighten?"

Li Lanzhi looked up at the palm-sized, pitch-black iron window. "Here, it has never brightened."

Zhang Cheng did not speak again.

He put the biscuit in his mouth and chewed slowly.

The dry biscuit crumbs scraped down his throat, yet brought a surge of strength.

He looked at Li Lanzhi, then scanned the lifeless dormitory.

"Li Lanzhi, I have remembered this name."

He said silently in his heart.