"What is that?" Hector pointed at a huge stone ahead, his tone edged with curiosity.
Tyrone scratched his chin casually, showing no surprise, and answered in a calm voice.
"Ah... Uh. You could say it’s something that tests your physical strength."
"Just punch it—once you’re done, if you meet or exceed its requirement, you’ll get a bunch of treatment capsules."
"Understand? Ah... never mind. You’ll figure it out, so just watch and pretend like you get it." Tyrone gave Hector a knowing smile and nodded lightly.
A few prisoners lined up in order while others ahead performed their actions.
A muscular young girl stepped into a punching stance, her eyes tightly shut. Suddenly, a bloody aura flared up around her.
"Yaaaah!" She let out a fierce shout and threw a powerful punch at the massive stone.
The stone vibrated with a deep rumble that lasted a few seconds after her strike.
Finally, the shaking stopped, and numbers began to appear on the surface of the stone.
"Three!..." Hector said, clearly enjoying the spectacle, before turning to Tyrone.
"Is that how it works?"
"Yep!" Tyrone nodded and added,
"She’s gonna receive three capsules—matching the grade the stone gave her."
Hector frowned slightly, still eyeing the stone.
"So, who got the highest grade?"
Tyrone looked at the group ahead, his expression thoughtful.
"Well, good question... At first, that old man held the top grade—seven. But then that beautiful girl showed up and took the lead with eight!"
A moment passed, Hector stood lost in thoughts before turning to look at Tyrone.
Tyrone raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly.
"Around grade 2... That impressive?"
A short silence fell between them.
"I guess so." Hector gave a slight shrug and stepped forward, waiting for his turn.
"Hey Yaah! My lady, just look at me! This time, I’ll definitely surpass you!" Oscar laughed loudly as he prepared himself, shaking his butt and dancing maniacally—until a jailer stopped him with violent force.
"Watch my power!" Oscar shouted, releasing his bloody, revolting mana, which immediately caused everyone nearby to collapse, unconscious.
It was the exact kind of power only those in privileged positions possessed.
The huge stone shook once again—but this time, it trembled even more than when the old man had struck it.
"What the fuck! Is that real? How?!"
"I’m not too surprised—it’s from a privileged prisoner."
"What the fuck, man! That’s just an old guy..." a nearby common prisoner grumbled, his voice tinged with unfairness and jealousy.
"Sigh... Just accept your fate," another common prisoner replied with a weary sigh.
While others were busy gossiping about the old man’s incredible achievement, Hector noticed something else.
The blonde girl stood alone, not paying attention to the old man—until she suddenly turned toward Hector, having sensed his lingering stare.
"Damn!.." Hector felt a twinge of embarrassment and awkwardly rolled his eyes away, quickly escaping Berry’s gaze.
However, Berry barely registered Hector’s haunting heat. She simply smiled and stepped aside.
She walked toward the huge stone, maintaining a certain distance as she composed herself for a few seconds.
She dropped into a fighting stance, and her eyes narrowed, following an invisible aura emerging from within her.
It was entirely different from everyone else’s... more composed—almost humanlike.
Yet no one present could discern the true origin of her power... In fact, some were beginning to feel uneasy and afraid upon witnessing it.
"What’s going on? To me, it doesn’t even seem that strong. Actually, it feels kind of weak," Hector muttered, glancing at the expressions around him.
"Yeah... At first, I thought the same," Tyrone turned to Hector with a mysterious smile.
"But you’ll think differently after seeing that... Anything can happen with privileged prisoners."
"Okay... I hope so," Hector gave a slight nod and fixed his gaze on Berry’s stance.
No sound echoed. Only a single word appeared on the massive stone:
"What the hell? No way! I haven’t seen that level since I got here!" one prisoner exclaimed, his mouth agape in shock.
A nearby thin inmate wiped his chin thoughtfully, eyes locked on Berry.
"Well... I think she could break it if she really wanted to..."
"Huh? What do you mean?" asked a scarred man.
The thin one gave a casual shrug and replied,
"Didn’t you notice the way she punched?"
"There was no weight behind it! She just struck with incredible speed... And last time, she outdid the Burning Heat Old Man with only a Grade 1."
"Why just Grade 1? Because she’s modest."
"Oh, I see." A few inmates nodded in agreement with the thin man’s point.
"You think so too?" Tyrone asked, scratching his ear while watching Berry.
Hector glanced at the group who had been chattering and gave a nod.
The thin one was right—Hector had seen it through his special eyes.
That girl had barely applied any physical power; it was pure speed.
Absurd speed... making the strike seem weightless.
It was merely a trick—and technically a violation of the rules—but since the jailer hadn’t said anything, he kept silent.
After all, no one here could perceive her style... except him, the one with special sight.
While Hector was still processing, a soft, sudden palm pressed against his chest, jolting him.
"What dirty thoughts are you thinking about me?"
A calm, teasing voice whispered in his ear.
Instinctively, Hector stepped back a few paces and turned around.
At this point, he finally realized his situation and looked around.
Everything and everyone seemed to avoid him and Berry, as if they were hotspots in a crowded place...
He rubbed his head and spoke in an awkward tone.
"No... That’s a mistake! I wasn’t thinking about anything about you!"
In response, Berry’s face turned sorrowful, filled with disappointment.
She hugged one arm to her side, but the motion subtly lifted her chest—enough to make any guy blush.
She let out a soft groan through her red lips.
All the prisoners gawked, jaws hanging open and eyes wide in disbelief... Naturally, those fond of Berry looked especially upset.
For example, Oscar—biting his nails so hard that blood began to trickle—glared at Hector with murderous intent.
Hector ignored the hostile stares and focused on his own dilemma.
He scratched his head again, not daring to meet Berry’s crimson gaze...
Yet his eyes were locked onto her chest with burning intensity.
"Ah... Noo... Maybe a bit... just a little bit."