Never doubt my ability to act. The whole “endure humiliation for survival” routine is for idiots.

---

A shadow fell over Long Ming’s head. He looked up to find three figures standing in front of his table.

Long Ming lowered his head again, his expression unreadable as he prepared to stand and leave. However, no matter how he shifted, the three men intentionally blocked his path.

Though Long Ming’s current appearance was rather plain, with clean, fair skin, the towering, muscular men in front of him were clearly of the same Giant Race as Dale, the brute from earlier. The Giant Race was famous for their overwhelming physical strength, which made them the perfect counter to physically weak mages.

In the Dimensional Prison, the last thing a mage wanted to face was a Giant.

Compared to these hulking figures, Long Ming, though not short by normal standards, appeared pitifully small and vulnerable.

Without looking around, Long Ming could feel the crowd slowing down their eating, their eyes turning toward the spectacle. The prison guards stationed around the cafeteria stood still, making no effort to intervene.

This kind of provocation was tolerated as long as it didn’t go too far. Every territory had its rules: the weak either fought back or aligned themselves with the strong. The guards’ job was simply to maintain a façade of fairness.

Heat-filled stares fell on Long Ming, and he seemed to shrink back as if afraid—at least that’s how it appeared to the onlookers.

But if anyone could see his eyes hidden beneath his lowered head, they would see a calm stillness.

Newcomers always had to be baptized in some way, and since Long Ming had already offended the Demon King You upon entering, who else would they mess with if not him? To these men, Long Ming was the chicken meant to be slaughtered as a warning to the others.

The other newcomers huddled together, desperately trying to minimize their presence, eating more cautiously than ever. They were afraid they might be next if Long Ming were taken out.

On the other side of the room, partially hidden behind a low wall, a few prisoners quietly watched the scene unfold, before returning their focus to their meals.

Even the infamous Blood Spider Lady remained silent, eating her plate of dead insects with a wrinkled, discontented face, muttering softly, “Again?”

“Moza only bullies newcomers. If he has any guts, he wouldn’t grovel in front of King You like a bootlicker,” mumbled Ma Liang, the thief. When he first entered the prison, Moza had bullied him for his average looks and small build. Hearing the Spider Lady’s complaint, he bit into his bread and grumbled in agreement.

Despite some sympathy for the oppressed newcomer, Ma Liang had no intention of intervening.

In this prison, the last thing in abundance was compassion, and the most valuable currency was power.

Excess sympathy only brings harm to yourself.

The other prisoners at the table, including Gambling King Murray and Queen Medusa, remained silent, already guessing how the situation would unfold. They turned their heads away, unwilling to let the sight ruin their appetites.

As C-rank and B-rank dangerous criminals, they usually had little to do with one another. But today, they were gathered because of one man who connected them all—a man named Long Ming.

Whether they wanted to or not, they had all remembered him after he had effortlessly passed through the prison’s challenges. Today, they were here to discuss whether or not Long Ming could actually become the next warden.

Their heated debate had been interrupted by this petty harassment.

Like the rest of the cafeteria, they believed Long Ming was doomed.

“So, you want to eat, huh? Did anyone tell you the rules of this prison?” The man blocking Long Ming’s path was none other than Moza, the one Ma Liang had mentioned. He was a mountain of muscle, built like a bear.

“Looks like nobody did~~~ Let’s teach the newbie about respecting the strong,” added Three Eyes, one of Moza’s lackeys, clicking his tongue as he spoke. He tossed his tray of food at Long Ming’s head.

The plate of roasted vegetables and meat, dripping with sauce, flew through the air.

But whether it was an illusion or not, Long Ming’s body swayed just slightly, avoiding the mess with ease. Of course, the movement was clumsy, making him appear as if he had almost lost his balance.

No one believed this weak-looking man had managed to dodge on purpose.

The food splattered all over the floor, creating a mess.

The disturbance had grown loud enough that the wolf warriors began walking over.

“Too good for our boss’ food, huh? Apologize now! You ruined Moza’s lunch, so you better lick this all clean!” Three Eyes lifted his foot, aiming a kick at Long Ming. But for some reason, his leg felt like it was being held in place by an invisible force, completely unable to move.

Fear gripped Three Eyes’ heart, and he glanced at Moza for help.

Now, Long Ming might have been keeping a low profile, but he was never one to let things slide. If someone wronged him, there would always be payback. Asking him to let things go? No chance.

As if calculating the guards’ arrival time, Long Ming thought to himself that the powder he had discreetly sprinkled earlier should have started to take effect by now.

He took several steps back, seemingly out of fear, though it was really to make space. At that moment, Three Eyes’ face twisted in panic as he began to feel the effects.

Just as the guards arrived, the three thugs suddenly turned bright red, twisting and writhing as they started ripping off their clothes. They were strong, burly men, and soon enough, they were rolling on the floor, putting on a grotesque display of nudity, completely shameless.

It wasn’t long before they had turned into a writhing pile of bodies, performing a live show right there in the cafeteria.

Even the seasoned prison guards were stunned into silence, their eyes wide.

“Separate those idiots and send them all to solitary confinement!” one of the guards roared. “The rest of you—keep quiet!”

The guards began banging their batons against the tables to quiet the now-laughing prisoners. These weren’t just ordinary batons—they carried a special punitive force. One hit, and the recipient would be laid up for a week or more.

Once the three half-conscious offenders were pulled apart and knocked out with a hit from the baton, their “situation” remained standing, for everyone to see. When the guards looked back to where the victimized human mage had been, they found that he had already disappeared.

This event became a running joke in the prison for quite some time afterward.

Too bad that, in this day and age, few people still knew how to concoct such potent aphrodisiacs!

——

Taking advantage of the chaos, Long Ming had slipped out of the cafeteria unnoticed. He had no interest in staying around for the aftermath. He’d already gotten what he needed—enough to start infiltrating deeper into the prison.

Using an identity completely unlike his own was part of his strategy. As a just, powerful, and righteous future warden, he knew that his bright and shiny image wasn’t suited for every task.

Deception Rule #18: To fully embody one identity, you may need ten or even twenty more to perfect it.

It was like telling a lie—once you start, you need more lies to back it up.

Since Sha Yu was now preparing things, Long Ming thought it was only right to put in some effort as well, considering all he had extorted from the man.

Using invisibility potions to conceal himself, Long Ming set out to explore the Dimensional Prison thoroughly, scouting for vulnerabilities.

Time passed quickly as he moved through the prison, deep in thought. Before long, it was already midnight.

The final place he reached was an entrance leading into the pitch-black underground. A barrier was set in place, but such barriers were no challenge for Long Ming.

In this world, after thousands of years, the complex and intricate barriers that mystified most people were nothing but child’s play to someone like him, who had lived millennia ago.

What had been lost over the past 10,000 years wasn’t just magic and martial arts, but the most precious treasures of history.

Deep underground was the most heavily guarded and secure area of the prison, the place where only those who had committed the gravest offenses were sent for punishment.

Guards clad in black iron armor patrolled the dimly lit passageways, their movements precise like machines. Five steps, one lookout. Ten steps, a checkpoint. This was the most feared place in the prison—the Solitary Confinement Block.

Long Ming’s invisibility spell could only last another half hour, so he knew he had to move fast.

Even Long Ming, facing so many guards, had to hold his breath, suppressing the sound of his heartbeat and hiding his spiritual energy, careful not to reveal even the slightest hint of his presence.

He noticed that the highest concentration of guards was stationed at the entrance to a stone chamber at the very end of the hall. Curiosity could be dangerous, and many had fallen victim to it before.

But just as Long Ming was about to leave, he overheard a few words: “It’s time… Will King You make it through?”

Long Ming’s steps paused.

As the guards opened the stone door, Long Ming surged forward, slipping through in a flash with his pseudo-Holy Domain speed.

Inside the cave, there was only one man.

To be precise, it was a severely injured man, looking as if he were on the verge of death. He was bound by thick black chains, hanging in a large, humiliating spread-eagle position.

His once regal robes had been shredded by some sharp weapon, exposing his bronze skin, powerful muscles crisscrossed with scars. Fine beads of sweat dotted his body, giving him an unsettling yet seductive appearance.

Blood dripped down his wounds, but the man didn’t react, as if he were dead.

The two guards exchanged glances. Had they gone too far this time? Had they killed him?

Though the Demon King couldn’t possibly be that fragile, he had recently undergone severe punishment in the deepest level of the prison. His old injuries hadn’t healed before he accumulated new ones. Adding in his recent madness, which nearly sent him following the previous warden to the afterlife, who knew what his condition was now?

Just as one guard stepped closer to check, the man’s head snapped up. His voice, though hoarse, was filled with unyielding defiance. It was the voice of someone who had walked through the desert for days without water, but still carried the weight of command. “What, you want to see if I’m dead yet?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

The guards froze in their tracks.

“Get out.” You Ji coughed up blood, staining his dry, cracked lips. His bloodshot eyes opened slightly, the pain barely enough to lift his lids.

His fiery red hair clung to his sweat-soaked forehead, the sweat mixing with blood as it trickled down his neck and across his collarbone.

No one dared look any longer. The two guards quickly left.

The cave returned to its deathly silence.

Moments earlier, the fierce, dominant aura of King You had filled the space. But now, he hung limp, all his energy drained.

Suddenly, a faint presence stirred in the shadows.

“Who’s there?!” You Ji’s eyes snapped open like a cornered beast defending its territory. His gaze, filled with murderous intent, sought out the intruder, ready to shatter the chains and claim their life.