Chapter Twelve: The Consequences of Escape

This time, the swine beneath the stage were clearly much more perceptive. They opened their throats and shouted, each fearing that the henchmen wouldn’t hear and would reward their silence with another blow.

“I remember… I’ve told you all before! As long as you work hard! Follow the rules! The company will never shortchange you!” Brother Can bellowed at us through a megaphone. “Yet, there are always a few ingrates! Some even tried to run!”

“Today! I’m going to teach you two words!”

“And those words are: follow the rules!”

I understood immediately—Brother Can intended to make an example of someone, to crush any thoughts of escape among us.

I glanced up at the stage. Not one of those men was whole—some were missing fingers, others had a blind eye, a few lacked both ears. The reason was obvious: these swine had failed to meet their quotas, couldn’t endure the savage punishments, and so plotted escape. Sadly, they failed. And what awaited them would be a punishment even crueler.

Those bound men wore expressions of utter despair, heads bowed as if resigned to their fate, awaiting slaughter.

“Baldy! Bring out the rules!”

At Brother Can’s signal, two henchmen left the platform, returning shortly with two aluminum cases. The would-be escapees had been calm, but when they saw those cases, two of them suddenly shrieked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Brother Can! I know I was wrong!”

“Brother Can! I won’t dare again!”

“Brother Can! Please, give me one last chance!”

The henchmen were unmoved. With practiced calm they opened the cases and withdrew several glass jars, each about the size of a soda can.

A murmur of dread ran through the watching swine, followed by anxious whispers. We were too far to see clearly what the jars contained—only that they seemed filled with water, within which something black and writhing moved.

Brother Can slipped on a pair of rubber gloves with practiced ease, then pointed at a man bound and missing several fingers. “Your performance is the worst! Today, we’ll start with you!”

The man’s face twisted in terror as he tried to crawl away, but his legs had been shattered by steel pipes; he collapsed, writhing on the ground in agony.

Several henchmen pinned his limbs, holding him down. Brother Can carefully opened a jar, his face splitting in a cruel grin. He raised his foot and stomped hard on the man’s abdomen.

The man screamed, gasping and choking, and Brother Can swiftly poured the jar’s contents into his mouth.

The black mass inside seemed almost alive. It wriggled and forced its way down the man’s throat. His neck bulged grotesquely as the thing burrowed into his belly.

“What the hell is that thing?” I muttered to myself. The henchmen, as if terrified, released the man at once and scrambled several meters away.

The man clawed desperately at his mouth, trying to drag the thing out, but succeeded only in raking bloody grooves into his own neck.

Brother Can and his underlings repeated the process, forcing those wriggling black things down the throats of each failed escapee.

Soon, all the swine on the stage were writhing in agony. Brother Can’s face glowed with satisfaction.

He clapped his hands together with a loud, deliberate sound.

Instantly, the men on the stage erupted into howls of pain.

What was happening?

As confusion gripped me, a searing pain tore through my head and back—especially my skull. The mere sound of applause, so ordinary before, now felt like a curse, splitting my head open. My vision blurred, voices around me dissolved into an unintelligible cacophony.

I was on the verge of collapsing when a force steadied me from behind, stopping my fall.

“Hey! Are you alright?”

I turned to see Number 2050.

By now, most of the pain had ebbed away.

“I’m fine!” I managed, drenched in cold sweat. “Just a headache! Maybe I didn’t sleep well last night!”

“Didn’t you want to kill me just now? Why the sudden concern?” I forced a smile and teased her.

“You’re one to talk about sudden concern! Your whole family’s full of sudden concern! Don’t forget our deal!” Her face darkened, and she shoved me aside with force.

I looked back at the stage. Brother Can had stopped clapping. The swine who’d been force-fed those unknown things now lay motionless, deathly still.

What was most chilling was the way they died: eyes bulging, blood streaming from every orifice, limbs grotesquely twisted—arms and legs bent backward at impossible angles.

Later, I learned that in their final struggles, they’d thrashed about so violently that they’d twisted their own bodies into grotesque shapes.

“I give you work! I pay your wages! I feed you! I give you water! I give you shelter!” Brother Can continued to preach from the stage. “Ask any of the workers who transferred here from the other three families! Compared to them, I am merciful and generous! If you don’t believe it, ask for yourselves!”

He called out, “Number 2030! You came from White Family’s Hidden Tiger Manor! Tell them—where is life better, here or at Hidden Tiger Manor!”

A fingerless man in the crowd shouted back, “Brother Can! I swear! Compared to Hidden Tiger Manor, this place is paradise!”

Brother Can wasn’t finished. He pointed at another wretched-looking man. “And you! Number 2033! You came from Wei Family’s brothel, didn’t you? Tell everyone—is it better to work here or to be a pimp in Wei Family’s brothel?”

“Brother Can, Brother Can! I never want to go back there as long as I live!” the man cried, terror-stricken. “This place is wonderful! I’ll definitely stay and work hard!”

“And the rest of you?”

At once, the swine below the stage shouted over each other, “Brother Can! We’ll definitely stay and work hard!”

“Don’t worry, Brother Can! We’ll do our best! We’ll create more value for the company!”