Rick woke up abruptly, feeling as if something was off about him. His vision was still blurry from the deep sleep, but his body felt... light. As if the physical burdens and wounds that had weighed him down before had vanished without a trace.His eyes slowly opened, and as he moved his body, he felt no pain, none of the soreness he had experienced before. His entire body felt different, and there wasn’t even the slightest ache where his wounds had once been.He ran his hands over his body, touching every part of himself, hoping to find an explanation for this strange sensation. Rick stared at his right hand, which was usually covered in bruises and cuts from punches or iron shackles. Now, however, his skin was smooth, unblemished.When he touched his face, the cheek that had once throbbed with pain from a heavy blow was now flawless. No bruises, no soreness, everything was gone. Even as he reached into his mouth, probing the spot where a tooth had been knocked out, he found it had be

Rick stood in front of the sink, turning on the faucet and letting the water run over his hands. With slow movements, he washed his face, removing the dried blood and bruises that covered it.Every drop of water that touched his skin felt like a blade piercing into him, yet he only gave a faint smile as he looked at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall."This is just perfect..." he muttered softly, observing the bruises decorating his cheeks.The wounds now looked natural, as if they were truly the result of last night’s beating by Bruno and his gang.At the very least, if anyone saw him, they would think he had just woken up from a rough night, not that he had been beaten by the prison guards. Rick splashed his face with water once more, then took a deep breath before stepping away from the sink.As he walked down the cold, damp prison corridor, Rick grumbled internally.The work assignment given to him today would once again force him to face Bruno and his lackeys.It ha

Rick stood tall, the long iron rod still clutched tightly in his hand. His gaze was sharp, full of confidence, as if he was the sole owner of control in the room. Some of Bruno's men, who had been impatiently waiting for orders, finally darted forward with shouts full of emotion. They ran like Spartan warriors, carrying their respective iron bars, ready to finish Rick off with one blow. Meanwhile, Bruno only smiled faintly from behind, confident that Rick would be destroyed in seconds. But Rick, undaunted, stood his ground. "Come on," Rick muttered softly, grinning. "You think your numbers can scare me?"The first two men who led the charge swung their iron rods almost simultaneously. The swings were fast, powerful, and aimed right at the vital points of Rick's body. However, Rick's eyes that had been strengthened with the Enhanced Vision ability could capture every detail of the movement clearly. He could read the direction of the attack trajectory even before the iron bar got c

The atmosphere in the prison dining room is always tense. The bland smell of food mixed with the sweat of the inmates created a suffocating atmosphere. For Rick, this place was not just a dining hall, but also a psychological battlefield where power and hierarchy were determined. However, today, everything felt much different, not in a positive sense, but actually many times worse. Normally, the tension in this place is enough to make anyone who newcomers would feel intimidated. However, this time, the murderous air that enveloped the room was so thick that it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Rick could feel it clearly. From the cold stares that were thrown at him, from the way some people's breathing was a little heavier, from the small movements that seemed ordinary, but full of hidden intentions.The hundreds of inmates sitting quietly at their tables were actually harbouring murderous intent. Rick was not surprised; this was somethin

The previously pitch-black dining room floor had now turned into a sea of red. Fresh blood pooled in several parts, creating a horrific scene that looked more like a human slaughterhouse than a dining room. A foul odor filled the air, mixed with the groans and groans of pain from the fallen prisoners. Rick stood in the middle of it, the iron bar in his hand already covered in blood. His breathing was steady, his eyes still burning with anger and cold joy. Hundreds of people were lying on the floor, helpless. Some of them writhed with their bodies covered in wounds, while others had even lost consciousness. The brutal blows from Rick's iron bar had paralyzed them all. Of Bruno's total troops, almost half had fallen. But there was still half left. Rick swept his gaze across the room. The dining room was about 300 square meters in size, large enough to move freely without much hindrance. The perfect space to fight without restrictions. The waves of attacks continued to come. The