Chapter 6: Joining the Gang

The big man's first punch was a jab, meant to test Zuo Dao's reaction. He had only four ways to respond—dodge, block, counter, or simply take it. If he took it, there were two possibilities: either Zuo Dao couldn't be bothered to respond to a punch of that caliber, or he couldn't react in time.

Zuo Dao's instinctive response to an attack, however, was definitely to dodge, and that split-second reaction was difficult to fake. He avoided the quick punch, retreating half a meter, while the two small, skinny prisoners attacked from behind, landing an elbow and a knee squarely on him.

The rest of the fight went much the same way. It wasn't much to look at, though that was lucky for Zuo Dao. Apart from the big man, who had some grounding in martial arts, the other two were really no better than ordinary men in a street brawl. If all three had moves like the fighters in Dragon Tiger Gate, it would have been more entertaining, but after about ten seconds there would have been no fight left to watch.

Outnumbered three to one, Zuo Dao exchanged a dozen or so moves and took over a dozen punches and kicks. Luckily, none of the blows was particularly lethal, but even so, they hurt like hell. If he kept struggling on like this, Zuo Dao would probably have to debut his head-clutching crouch.

Though the fight was something of a farce, it did serve a purpose, much like the initiation rites certain underworld gangs put their recruits through. What mattered wasn't the outcome, but the process. Everyone knew that when nobody could use their abilities, one man fighting three would almost certainly get beaten to the ground. What mattered was how long he could hold out and how he behaved after the beating.

There were plenty of prisoners like Zuo Dao pretending to be tough, and most showed their true colors after a beating. Once their pretense was exposed, the Laundry Gang would immediately pile on, beat them until they couldn't look after themselves, and throw them out. Everyone understood the reasoning. If you gave in when we beat you today, you'd sell us out for sure if the guards beat you tomorrow.

The fight continued for another few minutes, and Zuo Dao was nearly at his limit. The three men were closing in and attacking more frequently, while he tried to work out how to handle the situation. Should he really cover his head and scurry away? Or try out what Tian Yi had taught him in an actual fight? But if the results were too startling and caught the guards' attention, wouldn't he be getting himself into trouble?

That moment's distraction was enough. A heavy downward punch from the big man caught Zuo Dao square in the face. His vision went black, and a mouthful of blood-streaked spit sprayed out. Stars danced before his eyes and his ears buzzed as he staggered a few steps, plainly unable to keep his footing. Another prisoner hooked a foot behind his heel, and Zuo Dao lost his balance and landed flat on his back, limbs in the air.

Lying on the floor, Zuo Dao could see only three figures looming over him. Through the haze, he heard the big man curse him and spit at him. Then the beating began, every punch sinking into flesh, every kick driven in as though they meant to kill him.

They beat him until his consciousness began to blur. Just as he was about to pass out, the two short, skinny prisoners hauled him up between them. The big man grabbed his hair and lifted his face. “Beg for mercy and stay the hell out of the laundry room from now on, and we'll let you go.”

Zuo Dao hurt so much he wanted to cry. These bastards were fucking vicious. He felt as though they'd knocked his whole body apart. But he'd understood since childhood that you could only cry when you met a good person. In front of a bad one, you had to smile.

“Heh heh heh...” Zuo Dao forced a smile uglier than tears. “So you're the one here who handles the hand-washing...”

He was only halfway through the taunt when a punch to the face knocked him unconscious.

...

When Zuo Dao slowly came around, he was sitting in the cafeteria with a meal already in front of him, surrounded by prisoners from the Laundry Gang.

Seeing him wake, the prisoner beside him said, “Hey, you with us yet? If you are, get to know everyone. Remember every face at this table. We're all on the same side, and we'll be looking out for each other from now on.”

Zuo Dao was still groggy. At those words, he shook his head and brought his surroundings into focus, discovering that they had changed completely. He had no idea how long he'd been out. The blood had been wiped off his face, though apparently they'd used his own shirt to do it... The Laundry Gang members must have brought him his food, which meant... the guards had just let these men drag him to the cafeteria unconscious?

The tables here were long, with seats fixed to the floor, rather like those in a fast-food restaurant. The food, of course, couldn't compare. Even junk food had become a delicacy that existed only in the prisoners' memories.

Zuo Dao had sharp eyes. He noticed that the prisoners at other tables had nothing on their plastic trays but a gluey liquid that, judging by appearances alone, wasn't much different from vomit. Presumably this was Tidal Prison's fabled standard fare. At his own table, they had only some mashed potatoes and foods made from rice and flour, but at least those could pass for actual food.

“Hey, I'm talking to you. Did they beat you stupid?”

“Hm? Oh, thanks. Got it.” Only after that reminder did Zuo Dao reply. He picked up his lunch and began eating, his gaze passing over every face at the table. None belonged to the three men he'd fought. Apparently all three were held in other sections.

Zuo Dao gathered that he'd been accepted, even if no one had told him outright. The Laundry Gang might not be the prison's only faction, but since they'd said they could exchange intelligence, getting in with them would be of some help. In any case, he had to pursue anything that might help him make contact with Blood Owl.

Lunch was peaceful. The prisoners were orderly, and none of the mealtime brawls so popular in films broke out. In the cafeteria, the prisoners spoke little. For one thing, the food was so disgusting that they had no appetite for conversation. For another, the guards were close by, making it hard to talk freely.

After finishing their meals and returning their trays, the prisoners went back to the recreation area. Only then did the Laundry Gang call Zuo Dao over.

Unlike at lunch, the Laundry Gang didn't gather all its members from the section together. Instead, they spread out in groups of three to five. If a dozen or even several dozen people huddled together to discuss something in the recreation area, the guards would come and break them up.

Zuo Dao followed four men into a secluded corner. One of them said, “Let's get this straight first. You don't need to ask about us, and we won't ask about you. The less we know about each other, the better. Understand?”

Zuo Dao nodded. “What else?”

Another said, “If one of our own gets into a fight with another prisoner, you know whose side to take.”

“No problem there either.” With his bruised, swollen face, Zuo Dao's tough-guy expression was fairly convincing.

“If you have any information, however trivial, you'd do best to share it with everyone. Put a few people's scraps together, and we might be able to piece together the whole picture.”

“I've got nothing to share at the moment,” Zuo Dao replied.

The prisoner on his right said, “You've just joined. It'll take a while for people to learn your face. You won't necessarily run into someone who's seen you before every time you go to the laundry room, so all new members need a signal.

“When you get to the laundry room tomorrow, turn your collar inward. And when you're sorting clothes, fold in the collars of the prison uniforms you handle, too. That way, people who haven't seen you before will know you're new and you're one of us.”

Zuo Dao asked, “But there are plenty of people I don't know. How am I supposed to tell whether any of them are new?”

“You don't need to worry about that. The old members handle it. Besides, there aren't many people like you who've ‘been here six months’ without ever working in the laundry room or learning our rules, then suddenly decide to pop in on a whim.”

Zuo Dao heard the sarcasm in that, too. These men weren't stupid. They'd plainly seen through his lie about having been inside for six months. Any prisoner who'd spent a while in Tidal Prison was bound to know about the Laundry Gang. At the very least, some word would surely get out from the men they'd beaten who hadn't joined.

“So... we don't actually get new members all that often?” Zuo Dao wanted to change the subject and let the matter drop.

“Usually someone who doesn't know the situation wanders in within three or four days of arriving. Of course, not everyone can take the beating and hold out to the end.” The prisoner added, “No organization in the world goes out of its way to recruit spineless weaklings and share its resources with them. Especially not in a place like this.”

Another man cut in. “Oh, there's one more thing you should know. Some stuck-up bastards say working in the laundry room for two meals is degrading, and they look down on us. If people like that provoke you or mouth off at you, try to ignore them. They're all bark and no bite. If you lose your temper and throw the first punch, you won't enjoy your time in a cage coffin.”

Me, throw the first punch? Zuo Dao thought. You give me far too much credit.

“Hmph, that sort... If they can't get the eggs, they say they're rotten. If they can't get the woman, they call her a whore. I've never had any time for that kind of trash.” Zuo Dao spouted this filth with an air of utter indifference. He looked even more self-righteous than those loudmouths who thought themselves above everyone else.

The prisoner on his right spoke again. “All right, that's about everything you need to watch out for. Now, whether you've just arrived or really have been here six months, we need to explain where the prison gangs stand and how we get along with them.”