Chương 5: Rebel
As Jamie followed Alex out of the cell, he did his best to keep up without looking too disoriented. Alex led him down a winding corridor, lined with narrow metal doors and flickering lights that gave off an unsettling hum. The air felt heavier here, thicker, as if the walls themselves held a kind of watchful silence.
"So, this prison…" Jamie began, keeping his tone casual. "Any idea on its layout? Or where things are?"
"Yeah, 'course," Alex said, giving him a sidelong look. "But if you're hoping for an easy escape, you'll need more than just a map. This place is a mess of territories, rivalries, and people just waiting to turn you into a quick stepping stone up the ranks."
They rounded a corner and entered what could only be described as the square—a wide, bustling courtyard where inmates clustered in groups, some laughing, others trading what looked like food or supplies. The space was alive with activity, almost like a grimy, makeshift town square. The sight threw Jamie off-balance; he hadn't expected anything close to normal life in a place like this.
"Welcome to the square," Alex said with a smirk. "Home away from home."
Jamie scanned the crowd, noting the way people seemed oddly… at ease here. Some leaned against walls, deep in conversation, while others looked relaxed enough to be having an ordinary day in a small town—except, of course, the fact that it was an actual literal prison.
"This place has a hierarchy," Alex said, leaning in close as they walked. "Everyone gets ranked—F-tier for the weakest, up to C-tier as I've heard, for, well… let's just say I've never seen anyone at that level. You don't start earning real respect until you're at least E-tier. And the higher your rank, the better your perks."
"Perks," Jamie repeated, not liking the sound of that.
"Yeah," Alex replied, his tone light but edged with seriousness. "Better food, safer spaces, sometimes even special training. It's all designed to make you want to rise up—or get crushed by those who do."
They stopped near a cluster of inmates, where a guy with a hunched back and unfortunate features sat perched on a crumbling ledge. His nose was crooked, his hair a tangled mess, and his eyes were too close together, giving his face a sly, rodent-like look. He noticed them approaching and gave a grin that revealed uneven, yellowed teeth.
"Oh, hey, Rebel," Alex said, sounding more amused than polite. "Brought someone for you to meet."
The guy—Rebel, apparently—squinted at Jamie as though he were trying to piece together a puzzle. "This one's new?" he asked, leaning closer with an exaggerated squint. "Thought we were out of new blood for the month."
"Got jumped. Can't remember much," Alex said, shrugging as he gave Jamie a subtle nudge. "Figured you could help fill in the blanks."
Jamie offered a tentative nod, sensing an underlying tension beneath Rebel's grin. Rebel's attention on him was unsettling, like he was measuring something Jamie couldn't see.
"Rebel," the guy announced with a small flourish, sticking out a hand. "Rebel faction leader. Welcome to our humble quarters." He spoke with an odd, booming voice, as if trying to make up for his unimpressive appearance. "We're the ones who actually want out of here."
"Right," Jamie said slowly, shaking Rebel's hand, trying to sound like he knew what that meant. "Makes sense… the rebel thing."
"Exactly!" Rebel replied, grinning as though Jamie had just made a brilliant observation. "Because if you're not with us, you're with him." He shot a thumb in the direction of a tall, barred window where, from a distance, a huge guy stood at attention, watching the square.
"Him?" Jamie asked, careful to sound interested without giving away his ignorance.
"Keys," Rebel said, the name slipping from his lips like a bad taste. "The 'Lord' of this fine establishment. Claims every inch of territory for himself and calls it a 'domain.' The guy's got it all… influence, power, and the charisma to pull it off."
Jamie tried not to look lost, but Rebel didn't miss his blank expression. He gave a loud, exaggerated sigh, as though Jamie's ignorance personally offended him.
"Here's the short version, alright?" Rebel said, leaning in and practically shouting into Jamie's ear as though he couldn't hear otherwise. "Every big shot around here has a domain. Enter a domain, and you get slapped with a penalty. Lose 20 percent of your skill or whatever. Turns people into—what's the word?—'minnows' compared to the 'sharks.' Makes it harder to fight, harder to think, harder to breathe."
Jamie processed this with a sinking feeling. So, every major player had a territory, and stepping into it meant taking a hit to his abilities. And with him already stuck at F-tier, that could be a death sentence. But he kept his face neutral, noting the way Rebel watched him with a grin that seemed all too eager to find a crack in his composure.
Rebel's gaze flicked up and down Jamie's figure, his eyes filled with something resembling amusement. "Let me guess… everything feels fuzzy after you got jumped? Swear everyone say I got stupid after my head got bashed in by fucking Masky."
Jamie forced a half-smile, trying to play along. "Something like that."
"Fucking hells," Rebel said with a dismissive shake of his head. "Like you got it rough or something. Try living as the leader of a shit group with a bunch of idiots who want to die in prison, and then tell me about rough."
Jamie held back a response, but he sensed something dark in Rebel's words, an edge beneath the jokes. This wasn't some clueless NPC. Rebel was sharp, maybe sharper than he let on. It wasn't just the prisoners here who had hidden motives—NPCs, too, had agendas, alliances, and loyalties that could either make or break him.
"So you're in charge of helping the new recruits for your uh group, then?" Jamie asked, hoping to pull a little more out of Rebel.
"In charge?" Rebel's voice rose, either out of excitement or, well, because he couldn't hear. "I volunteered. Someone's gotta look out for us poor souls trying to bust out of here. And who better than the guy everyone loves, am I right?"
Jamie resisted the urge to point out that "loved" might be a stretch. But he gave a polite nod, deciding to tread carefully.
Rebel clapped Jamie on the back, a little harder than necessary, then leaned in. "Look, Jamie, I'll make this simple. Stick with the Rebels, and you'll have at least a chance at escaping this place one day. Better than getting comfy here and forgetting you there's life outside these walls, just because we were both here doesn't mean we have to die here."
Jaime had to control the skip of his heart beat at the word born here. How long has everyone been here? What kind of prison is this? Born here?
Jamie glanced at Alex, who shrugged as if to say Don't look at me. The dynamic between them was odd; Alex's nonchalance and Rebel's overblown confidence clashed like two mismatched puzzle pieces forced together.
"Fine," Jamie said after a beat, keeping his tone neutral. "I'll keep that in mind."
Rebel gave an approving nod, like Jamie had passed some kind of test. "Good. Now, remember… stay out of Keys' domain. Most of us do." He looked over Jamie's shoulder, glancing at something in the distance, his voice dropping slightly, almost as if it hurt him to speak lower. "That guy's got half the prison under his thumb. If you want any real freedom, you'd have to take him down. And people who try usually don't last long enough to regret it."
"So he's unbeatable?" Jamie asked, probing carefully.
Rebel's smile twisted. "I never said that. Just said he's got power. But every shark's got a weakness… somewhere."
Jamie filed that away, his mind whirring. Keys was the most powerful figure here, and if Rebel's grin was anything to go by, the prison had plenty of people eager to see that change.
Before Jamie could ask anything else, Rebel shot Alex a wink. "So, Alex, you still kicking around with the same old gang?"
"Maybe," Alex said with a lazy grin. "Haven't decided yet. It's been such a long time since I've run with anyone."
Rebel chuckled, but his eyes flickered with a hint of something darker as he turned back to Jamie. "See, it's always the quiet ones. Anyway, good luck, Jamie. Hope you find your way here."
With that, Rebel turned and ambled away, giving a few other inmates cheerful but odd half-salutes. Jamie watched him go, feeling more uneasy than before.
"Well, there you go," Alex said, slapping Jamie on the shoulder with a smirk. "Your official introduction to the Rebels. Friendly, right?"
Jamie rolled his eyes. "If by friendly you mean unsettling."
"Yeah, well," Alex replied, still grinning. "You're in a prison run by a guy named Keys, guided by a guy named Rebel. Expect weird." He started to walk back towards the cell. "Come on. You'll need some rest before tomorrow. Besides, everyone has a job, and if you're lucky, yours won't involve cleaning sludge."
"Sludge?" Jamie muttered, though he had a feeling Alex wasn't exaggerating.
As they walked back, Jamie's mind turned over what he'd learned. Domains, factions, skill penalties—it was becoming clear that every move he made here would have to be calculated. And if even NPCs had agendas and secrets, then he couldn't afford to underestimate anyone.
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