"Okay..." The pain gradually subsided, and Verak waited quietly for the prison guards to come, "How do you know it's time to eat? There is no clock here."
"All you have to do every day is eat, take a bath, and stay long enough. You can still feel these critical time points."
A few minutes after Keating finished speaking, Verak heard footsteps. Soon, a prison guard carrying two lunch boxes came over, placed the lunch boxes on the small partition on the cell door and pushed them in.
"Thank you." Verak took the two lunch boxes and walked towards Keating.
The indifferent prison guard was slightly moved when he heard this "thank you". He looked at Verak, and then he gave an instruction and closed the partition: "I will pick up the lunch box in ten minutes."
"Let me open it for you." Verak put down one of the lunch boxes and opened the lid of the other lunch box, revealing the cabbage soup and mashed potatoes inside.
Keating smiled and took the lunch box and ate with a spoon.
Verak opened the remaining lunch box, which also contained cabbage soup and mashed potatoes. He took a spoonful of cabbage soup and drank it: "Mr. Keating, are the meals here the same every day?"
"What? Are you not used to eating?" Keating asked as he chewed and swallowed the next mouthful of food.
"No." Verak has lived in the slums for twenty-six years and has eaten worse food than this during the most difficult period. "I'm just curious. It seems that your status is unusual. Since I have arranged the best for you,
The prison cell has dedicated personnel to take care of it, so why should we be so stingy on food?"
"Staying here and being taken care of is good in terms of the results, but the starting point is not to make me feel better, it's just that they don't want me to die." Keating didn't care and ate his meal slowly.
Verak heard some more information from these words, confirming that Keating's identity was indeed unusual, and it sounded like the prison was treating him specially because he still had value.
What's the value?
As the president of the Equality Society, Verak has a lot of secrets of the Equality Society hidden in his belly. Now no one cares about him and treats him as nothing.
How could Keating's identity be more powerful?
He could not imagine that he would mechanically eat all the food in the lunch box while being distracted.
"Your adaptability is pretty good." Not long after, Keating also finished eating. He thought that as a noble, Verak would find it difficult to swallow these coarse foods mixed with impurities, but he didn't expect that Verak would eat more than
He also needs to be smooth.
"Maybe... I've been hungry for too long." Verak put Keating's lunch box away and placed it on the partition after the prison guards came.
The work schedule marked half an hour after dinner as bathing time. They spent ten minutes eating, and now there were only twenty minutes left before bathing. Verak was too lazy to go to bed and spread the prison uniform he was using to change on the bed.
He sat down on the floor and started chatting with Keating: "What book are you reading?"
Keating never directly answered his biggest secret, so Verak didn't pursue the question and talked about other trivial matters after dinner.
"Cruising." Keating picked up the book and showed the cover to Verak. "The author of this book is an explorer. The book records his adventures over the past fourteen years. Being imprisoned here, he can pass
This book is also a great blessing to learn about the strange and beautiful things in the world that are unknown to others."
"It's really good." Verak said.
Keating handed his hand to Verak: "Do you want to read it? I have read this book dozens of times, and it should be more useful to you now."
Verak leaned forward, reached out to take the book, and flipped through it briefly: "I hope I won't need it."
"There are only two situations where you don't need it. The first is that you successfully escaped from prison, and the second is that you can't stand the current life and commit suicide." Keating poured cold water on Verak, "The latter is more likely.
.”
"It's just more likely, then the problem can be easily solved." Verak shared the book, got up and put it on his bed, "You still said it too tactfully, I know that jailbreaking is almost impossible.
.”
"If you stay with me, you will never have the word "almost". I think you have also realized that if you only pursue stability and physical relaxation, then living with me will be the best choice. But once you do this
Doing it means that you can no longer have the most basic freedom and understanding of the terrain. Therefore, if you don’t want to lose the 'almost' breakthrough, you have to leave this refuge one day." Keating put Verak's entanglement in mind.
On the bright side.
After sitting down again, Verak raised his head slightly and looked at Keating: "You like to clear up the fog for me and reveal the choices I face."
"It's also kind of fun."
"What do you think I will choose?" Verak has no idea about this yet. He only knows that sooner or later he will leave.
"How should I know?" Keating shrugged and spread his hands.
"...It's still early." Verak was not ready to make a decision so early, not to mention that he couldn't leave yet. Deputy Warden Lecter prohibited him from applying to change cells. "The troubles in front of him are one after another.
, I have to solve them one by one."
Twenty minutes passed quickly, and the prison guard came to open the door and escort the two of them to the bathroom.
The other prisoners were probably still working. The huge and empty underground prison seemed to be specially opened for Verak and Keating. It was extremely quiet, and there was no need to compete with other prisoners for bathing seats.
He carried Keating over and bathed him as he had done in the afternoon. Then Verak took a shower himself, washed his old clothes, and returned to cell 208 wearing a change of prison uniform.
It's not easy to serve people. As soon as the clothes were hung up, Verak carried Keating to the toilet again. After using the toilet, a whistle sounded and noisy sounds were heard. Groups of prisoners were escorted back and locked up one by one.
Their respective cells.
"It's nine o'clock," said Keating.
"What time do they work?" Verak glanced at the crowd, and at the urging of the prison guard, he walked back with Keating on his back.
"Four to seven in the morning."
"It's no different from workers outside."
"But it's completely different from your life."
Returning to the cell, he gently put Keating on the bed. Verak moved his body, and his body suddenly froze.
"Something has to be done..."
Verak lay on the ground and did push-ups.
Keating just smiled, picked up other books from his pillow and started reading.
After not exercising for a long time, Verak's arms became sore and weak without doing much. He sat down against the wall, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and breathed evenly: "Huh..."
"The one next door, where did it come from?"
Questions came from the cell next door.
Verak turned his head. He couldn't see to the side, so he could only ask towards the iron railing: "Ask me?"
"Yes." said the other end.
"Lazein." Verak replied while looking at Keating.
"A political prisoner who used to be a musician." Keating seemed to know the person next door very well and told Verak the identity of the person.