Chapter 77 – The Ritual

“Bring six bottles of Vodka here, it’s on me!”

“Get me a huge platter of lobster ravioli, I’ll pay with contribution points!”

“A round of ale for everyone, this one’s on me ‘Black Beast’ Tuck!”

It was noontime, the registration point had been cleared away and volunteer recruitment was over.

The cafeteria was lively, the condemned prisoners who had been selected hurried to spend their contribution points on feasting and drinking. These villains who had committed all kinds of misdeeds were even voluntarily buying drinks and sharing joy. After all, as volunteers they would either get out of prison alive or disappear without a trace, so their contribution points were useless anyway – of course they had to spend it all quickly.

The most tragic thing in life is when someone dies with money still left unspent.

And even more tragic is having money left unspent, but desperately wanting to die.

Ronald Wade was the latter.

He looked at the sumptuous food in front of him. His stomach was hungry but he had no appetite at all.

The cafeteria server brought over the chilled ale that ‘Black Beast’ Tuck had bought for everyone. Ronald had not touched any alcohol for many days, though he used to drink like water every day before being jailed. Having taken a sip of the ale, what should have been a refreshing drink to his parched throat tasted like water with a hint of bitterness.

Boring.

Everything was boring.

Being jailed was boring, living was boring, even masturbation was boring. The only thing now that could make Ronald’s pituitary gland send strong signals, the only thing that could make him feel alive, was –

“Woo woo!”

Ronald suddenly plunged his face into the food, frantically shoving it into his mouth with his hands. He chewed vigorously, his teeth gnashing back and forth to tear apart the tendons in the meat slices, as if only this could make him temporarily forget that kind of nauseating yet irresistible primal craving!

“Quite an appetite you’ve got there. Though you look pretty thin, do you normally work out?”

Ronald looked up to see two infamous personalities of the prison – no need to introduce Igor of course, skilled at financially devastating new inmates through contracted spirits, while also being an information broker in the prison.

Langna had told him on the very first day to be extremely wary of anything Igor said, that he’d never know when he might unknowingly enter into an unfair contract with Igor.

Having been jailed only a short while, Ronald had yet to witness Igor’s vicious side, and thus did not have much guard up against him. The other infamous figure, ‘Warlock’ Ashe, left an even deeper impression – defeating Igor first, then overcoming Valcas, surviving the Blood Moon Tribunal from a nearly doomed predicament.

To Ronald, Ashe seemed fated for defeat every time, yet somehow he kept winning.

From not being able to fight at all to knocking Igor out with one punch, from not knowing how to use a sword to stabbing through Valcas’ throat, in the Blood Moon Tribunal Valcas clearly wanted to bring him along to meet the Blood Moon Sovereign, yet somehow his head remained intact…

If this had happened outside, Ronald would surely feel like he was witnessing the birth of a new legend.

What a pity this was Shattered Lake Prison.

No matter the miracles, here they were just bubbles surfacing in the lake, popping when they reached the water’s surface, never able to exist under the sun.

“No I don’t.”

“Then how come you’re so skinny?” Ashe took a big bite out of a sandwich, “Did your body fat run away by itself?”

Ronald raised his eyebrows slightly, his face expressionless. “Let’s be real here, if you wanna cause trouble for Langna just go look for him directly. I’m not interested in getting involved in your grudges.”

“No no, we came to find you.” Ashe said. “Still feeling down that you didn’t get chosen as a volunteer? Don’t worry, besides becoming a volunteer, there are other ways to leave prison.”

Ronald’s spirit shook. “What ways!”

“Escape!” Ashe said mysteriously. “We have a big plan now, the chance of success for the prison break is very high, just lacking some manpower. Are you interested?”

Ronald was stunned for a moment, then sighed. “Let’s be real, don’t try to mess with me okay? I’m begging you, can’t we just let it be? How about this, I’ll buy you guys dinner, one contribution point each, and you let me off easy alright?”

Ashe and Igor exchanged helpless glances. Igor sighed, “If all cult leaders outside were as silver-tongued as you, no wonder the Four Pillars have gone into hiding for so long.”

Igor looked to Ronald, “You know you can’t keep staying here right? You have to get out of Shattered Lake, you need to escape from Langna, even if it means becoming a volunteer with nine chances dead for every one alive. Because if you keep staying by Langna’s side, the outcome will be worse than death, more excruciating than death.”

Ronald’s eyes flickered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is without Langna, I’d be a regular attraction at the Blood Moon Tribunal, getting hammered into meat paste by the executioner.”

“Certainly tempting.” Igor laughed. “As long as you agree to be intimate with him, he’d be willing to lose to you deliberately in deathmatches, letting you obtain lots of contribution points and temporarily escape the Tribunal. Especially after you lost five deathmatches in a row, Langna became your only lifeline.”

Like most condemned prisoners, Ronald’s means of earning contribution points were mostly illegal outside, leaving him almost no way to contribute value in prison. Naturally his sights turned to the Deathmatch Society – obtaining resources by plundering others, this had always been Ronald’s way of survival for over twenty years anyway.

Unfortunately, there were too many plunderers and too few producers in prison.

When Ronald joined the Deathmatch Society, he chose what looked like a weak old man to fight, but got beaten till every bone in his body cracked – ‘Diamond’ Taig had succeeded in snatching another 1 contribution point from a newbie.

The results of the next 4 deathmatches were about the same. Ronald had gathered intel and pulled out all the stops, but those willing to fight him could practically crush him with one finger.

After losing 15 contribution points, Ronald became the bottom feeder of the prison’s food chain. He no longer dared to accept deathmatch invites – his confidence had been shattered by the first five losses, he felt everyone here was stronger than him.

If he could not find a way to earn contribution points, he would appear at every subsequent Blood Moon Tribunal until the day the citizens graciously allowed the Blood Moon Sovereign to take away this murderous Woodpecker desperate for redemption.

That was when Langna appeared.

He was willing to deliberately lose to Ronald in deathmatches, allowing Ronald to gain contribution points. What’s more, it was an ongoing agreement – Langna had ways to earn contribution points, as long as he was willing, both of them could maintain high contribution and live comfortably in prison for years.

He only had two requests. First, that Ronald be intimate with him. Although reluctant, Ronald did not oppose much either, having experienced plenty outside already. For the sake of survival, sacrificing his chastity a bit was acceptable.

As for his second request…

“Langna needed you as ‘raw material’ right?” Igor said. “He requested deathmatches with you, and naturally you had to accept in order to earn contribution points. Restrictions are removed in deathmatches, so he could do as he pleased with you…right before you were about to die, Langna would off himself to let you win…”

“This was probably your deal flow right?”

Ronald was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. “As long as I don’t die, my body can recover. Although it shortens my lifespan in the long run, without contribution points I might not even make it past the next Tribunal.”

Igor laughed. “Yes, if the ‘deal terms’ were only this, then it would be quite a bargain. Even I would be tempted.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you understand better than me right? After all I just pieced together Langna’s true motives from collecting intel on his previous ‘friends’. But you were the sacrificial offering experiencing the ritual itself. You must have felt the real nature behind this deal already no? Otherwise you wouldn’t be so eager to become a volunteer and escape from Langna.”

Ronald’s pupils dilated. “Ritual? What ritual?”

The corners of Igor’s mouth curved up slightly – revealing the truth to victims like this was one of his favorite criminal activities. If possible, he’d love telling every fool he had scammed about his deceptive schemes.

“Do you honestly think Langna made such demands out of mere whimsy? And you must feel it—Langna doesn’t treat you as an object, tool, or stranger. He truly loves you… with all his heart, without any reservation.”

Ronat’s face paled further, his hand trembling slightly as it clutched a steak.

It might sound ludicrous. Langna had taken advantage of situations to threaten Ronat and force him to comply. Each time they fought, Langna treated him like a piece of rib to be savored. From any angle, it looked like Langna simply regarded him as a slave, at his beck and call.

If it were really that way, Ronat would feel somewhat relieved because that’s a dynamic he could understand.

Yet, he felt that Langna’s feelings were genuine!

Ronat wasn’t some lone assassin; he’d been in love before and knew what love felt like.

That’s why he was so terrified—every look, every move from Langna, all revealed pure sincerity. Even when Langna ate, there was no hint of malice in his eyes! A profound love combined with feasting; Langna seemed to achieve a perfect harmony between the two, as if they coexisted effortlessly.

Ronat had always been afraid to think deeply about it, but now that Igor brought it to light, he was forced to confront this harrowing truth! He swallowed hard and asked hesitantly, “What… what kind of ceremony is this?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I only know the fate of the sacrificial offerings in the ceremony,” Igor replied. “All of Langna’s previous ‘close friends’ died in their own bedrooms, without exception.”

Ronald’s face turned pale, “How is that possible!? How could they have died in their dorm rooms?”

Ashe also realized – unless in the deathmatch arena zones, chips prohibited condemned prisoners from self-harm and suicide! If a prisoner starved himself, the prison would notify the guards to force feed when his body reached a critical point! Therefore it was impossible for a condemned to die in his dorm room, unless from old age!

But Langna was obviously not a twilight romance enthusiast.

“It’s said there were no anomalies in their bodies, everything seemed normal, but all organs and tissues had ceased functioning.” Igor speared a strawberry on the cake with his fork, “As if…their souls had suddenly vanished, so their bodies shut down immediately after.”

Ronald’s face turned as white as paper, his lips quivering uncontrollably.

Igor stabbed in the final blow.

“Now you must be disinterested in everything, except looking forward to Langna’s ritual right? Even if you have enough contribution points already, you’d still accept his deathmatch invites… Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because only in the ritual can your soul obtain a moment of wholeness – your incomplete soul is already impatient to escape your body.”