"Hehehe... looks like you're both still in pretty good shape."
"So, still holding out?"
In the damp, stinking prison, "The Plague" Queen was up to his usual routine—tormenting the two prisoners.
He looked down at Daren and Bullet, who were collapsed on the floor, panting like wild beasts, and let out a smug, twisted laugh.
"If you'd just submit, all of this would be over."
"Of course, I'd rather you didn't. It's not every day I get test subjects this perfect."
Queen puffed on his cigar with satisfaction, blowing out ring after ring of smoke while casually glancing at the vitals monitor beside him.
"Is that all you've got?"
Daren snarled through ragged breaths, forcing a grin despite the pain.
The searing agony made it hard to breathe. His flushed, burning skin was lined with bulging veins, twitching with every violent thump of his heart.
"Tch. Still running your mouth, huh?"
Queen squinted, unimpressed.
"Once I finish setting up my newest lab gear, I'll have viruses with even higher purity. By then, you won't even be able to beg for mercy."
"Bastard!!"
With bloodshot eyes and burning fury, Daren forced himself upright and threw a punch at Queen's fat, smug face.
Queen effortlessly caught his arm and sneered.
"Seastone's got you feeling weak, huh? That punch was pathetic."
He drove his fist into Daren's gut.
Daren's body folded instantly, like a boiled shrimp, and blood burst from his mouth in a spray.
The blood splattered across Queen's face and overalls, staining them bright red.
Queen: ...
"You little shit!! You dare spray blood on my face!?"
Queen froze for a second before exploding in rage.
He was just about to roll up his sleeves and give them a proper beating—when he noticed the two of them lying on the ground, limp and barely conscious, like half-dead dogs.
"Tch! I'll deal with you after I clean this mess up!"
The fat man in suspenders growled, slamming the cell door shut and stomping off in a fury.
Silence returned to the prison.
...
A minute later,
Daren and Bullet slowly pushed themselves up from the filthy, stinking floor.
"You, man... if you weren't a Marine, you could make a killing as an actor."
Bullet, pale and breathless, shot a sideways glance at the dark-haired Marine and muttered with a trace of admiration.
Even with his improved physique and resistance, that fat bastard's viruses still put him through hell.
Every injection was a fresh round of torment—unrelenting, and just as agonizing as the last.
Daren wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned.
"Who says good acting disqualifies you from being a Marine?"
He panted slightly, raised an eyebrow, and added with a teasing tone,
"There are plenty in the Marines better at pretending than I am."
Bullet scoffed.
"That fat bastard's going to be completely played by you. You bastard..."
The memory of the underhanded move that cost him an arm during their fight flashed through his mind. His jaw clenched tight.
"...You've got a twisted mind."
"Thanks."
"Damn it! That wasn't a compliment!!"
Bullet growled, voice rising with frustration.
"You really know how to piss people off!"
Daren chuckled and leaned back against the damp wall. He tilted his head up, his gaze distant.
"Bullet, we're breaking out soon. Once we're out… have you thought about what you'll do?"
The warm yellow light of a dim oil lamp cast flickering shadows across the wall, outlining the young Marine's profile.
Bullet shot Daren a puzzled look. The irritation faded from his face.
He went quiet for a few seconds, then slowly grinned, teeth bared.
"To be the strongest."
"Not exactly an easy goal,"
Daren said, amused.
Bullet snorted.
"You wouldn't get it. You've got your straight path—climb the ladder, become an Admiral."
"Just don't go getting soft, Daren."
"Because if we meet again and you've lost your edge, I'll twist your head clean off."
Daren narrowed his eyes and laughed.
"Right back at you."
Just then, a low voice came from the wall between them.
"Daren-sama."
Ripples spread across the crumbling stone as Senor's figure emerged from the water-like surface.
"The preparations are complete. How's it going on your end?"
Daren replied calmly,
"Everything's going according to plan."
Senor nodded.
"Then I'll make my move."
"Wait."
As Senor was about to dissolve back into the wall, Daren suddenly called out.
Senor turned back patiently.
"Do you have any other orders, Daren-sama?"
Daren shook his head, then asked,
"Got a cigarette?"
Senor blinked, then fumbled through his suit before pulling out a crumpled pack. He opened it.
"Only one left."
He handed both the cigarette and lighter to Daren.
"That's enough."
Daren took the last cigarette and gently placed it in Senor's mouth.
Senor froze, unsure how to respond.
Click.
Daren lit the cigarette.
Then, he tucked the pack and lighter back into Senor's jacket and took a step back.
"I'm a Marine. So I'll do it the Marine way."
He smiled, then raised his hand.
A crisp, precise salute.
The Seastone shackles on his wrists clinked loudly with the motion.
Senor's eyes widened. His lips parted slightly, the cigarette still clinging to his lower lip.
"Go on. When we're out of here, let's share a smoke together."
Daren lowered his arm and smiled.
Senor finally came back to his senses.
He took a deep drag, nodded hard, then dove headfirst into the wall of rippling water.
"...Yes, Daren-sama."
...
On the mainland of Brown Island.
Northwest of the prison.
Inside a ten-meter-tall facility, every room was packed with experimental equipment.
"Those damn brats! Got my clothes all dirty!!"
Queen cursed as he stormed into his quarters, struggling to peel his massive frame out of the tight overalls. He wrapped himself in a towel and turned on the hot water in the bathroom.
He walked over to his wardrobe and opened it.
Inside, it was filled with rows of identical, pristine overalls.
Queen pulled one out, humming as he hung it up. After a pause, he reached into the blood-soaked ones he'd just removed and pulled out a ring of keys, hanging them on the same hook.
Still humming, he strutted into the shower.
The sound of running water echoed out as steam quickly fogged the glass door. Inside, the blurry, jiggling silhouette of the oversized man could be seen dancing and singing to himself.
...
(70 Chapters Ahead)
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