Rag-picking mechanic

"...You are so interesting," Thomas couldn't resist commenting, as if he had a lump in his throat that he needed to express. He was hearing for the first time about someone spending money to deliberately get a heavier sentence. It was almost like a bizarre world wonder.

Fortunately, his sharp mind wasn't like a burnt-out CPU in a mech; he could still make sense of the logic in all this. Simply put, LCH had paid to be charged with a serious crime, just to get into the Ninth Prison and pilot the Mammoth mech for Simon in the competition.

As for how he would get out later... no matter how you looked at it, extracting someone like LCH, a nobody, seemed much easier than someone like Simon, a big shot. Even if Simon did get out one day, it wasn't impossible that LCH could be left behind.

"Actually, there was also a professional mechanic with me, but he had an accident and couldn't make it here. I'm just an Iron Rider, not very skilled in mech maintenance," added LCH.

Still a two-for-one deal... Thomas was momentarily lost for words and glanced again at the high windows. Compared to the mechanic whose whereabouts were unknown, he was more curious about how Jenna came up with such a perfect solution.

Thomas thought to himself that even if he were in charge, he couldn't have done it any better. On the surface, it seemed like the politicians of the Karl Star Nation had delegated the responsibility to Jenna. But in reality, what they handed her wasn't power, but a ticking bomb.

If Jenna couldn't withstand the pressure and released a bunch of super criminals, and if any of those released caused trouble again, impacting the Karl Star Nation and sparking public outcry, she would be the first to be blamed. Those politicians could then easily shift all responsibility onto Jenna, clearing themselves while calming public opinion.

So what if she didn't release any of them? That obviously wasn't an option either. These super criminals were backed by powerful influences, even the high ranks of the Karl Star Nation didn't dare offend them lightly, so what could Jenna, a mere warden, do?

This is where the brilliance of the plan became apparent. First, since these super criminals could influence public opinion, it meant that the forces behind them were not exactly honorable, likely involved in shady dealings. Moreover, since these individuals were captured in the Karl Star Nation, their backing forces were probably concentrated around the nation. It was easy to infer that with so many grey-area forces, there would be conflicts and contradictions among them. While they would want their own people released, they would be equally happy to see their adversaries remain locked up in the Ninth Prison.

With a bit of manipulation, this plan would easily be passed. The animosity between these forces was much greater than any friction they had with the Karl Star Nation, and they would relish the opportunity to make things difficult for each other. Thus, Jenna cleverly turned her pressure into an internal conflict among these grey forces.

Jenna didn't seem to be such a clever woman; maybe she had a wise advisor behind her... Thomas glanced again at the floor-to-ceiling windows, then turned back to LCH and Simon, steering the conversation back: "What about replacing parts on the damaged mechs?"

Given the nature of the combat and the rules mentioned by LCH, the mechs would likely suffer significant damage. If replacing parts wasn't allowed, not just winning seven battles, but surviving them without getting wrecked would be a miracle.

"Our 'old homes' are not allowed to send mech parts into the prison. Even if they did, they would be confiscated. We can only find them ourselves," LCH explained.

LCH stepped forward, casually resting his elbow on Thomas's shoulder and pointing beyond the high walls: "Apart from being a prison, Death Star is also a junkyard, filled with mountains of mechanical debris, from warships to mechs... Although most are scrapped, many parts are still usable. When a mech is damaged, Jenna has the guards take us to a specific junkyard area, giving us a day to find the parts we need."

"So, we have to rummage through the garbage for what we need," Thomas touched his nose and glanced towards the towering walls. Although he couldn't see anything, he felt an inexplicable sense of anticipation. After so many years in this world, it was his first time scavenging for scraps.

After a brief conversation, Simon took Thomas and LCH back to his own cell. This demonstrated Simon's status in the prison. If Thomas wanted to change cells, he would have to go through a process: talking to the guards, explaining the reason, and then waiting for a decision, possibly taking a whole day just to get a reply about moving the next day.

But Simon needed no such procedure. He said Thomas would share his cell, and the guards made it happen. He asked for a new set of toiletries, and the guards hurriedly brought them. His words seemed even more effective than their own fathers', making Thomas secretly grin. A prisoner bossing around guards without any complaint from them – was there anything more absurd in the world?

Is there?

The answer is: yes.

Following Simon and LCH through a series of twists and turns, Thomas finally arrived at Simon's cell. The door opened to reveal a completely Western European style decor. The warm color scheme was immediately noticeable, with a living room that featured a satellite TV on the wall. To the left were the dining area and kitchen, to the right a conference room, and further inside, there were a study and a gym.

Behind the living room and the sofa was a wall-sized liquor cabinet filled with fine wines. Even on the coffee table, there was a holographic communicator.

"You can contact the outside anytime?" Thomas asked in surprise.

"Of course, how else would my guys outside know if I'm doing well in prison?" Simon walked to the liquor cabinet, picked out a bottle of red wine, and sat back down on the sofa before continuing: "As long as I don't attempt an escape or harm any public officials here, I can do pretty much whatever I want. The guards will fulfill all my requests."

A presidential suite level cell, with the prison guards serving as attendants. This wasn't imprisonment, it was more like a vacation!

"There are three or four spare rooms, each with a private bathroom. You can pick one later. Except for my study and bedroom, which you can't enter without my permission, you're free to use anything in any other room."

As he spoke, Simon took out three professional wine glasses from a box, gesturing for Thomas and LCH to sit down. He poured the wine, saying, "I usually wouldn't feel like drinking with Mammoth being damaged, but your arrival has changed things... Let's raise our glasses, gentlemen, we'll talk while we drink."

"You bald head can be quite elegant..." Thomas raised his glass towards Simon and LCH, watching them drink before he gently sipped his own. Afterward, the three of them discussed the Mammoth in detail, what parts were damaged, what components were needed, and Thomas gave them a simple explanation.

However, Simon and LCH weren't very adept at these more technical discussions. LCH was somewhat better off, being an Iron Rider who dealt with mechs on a daily basis, so he could somewhat understand Thomas's explanations. Simon, on the other hand, was completely lost. Talking to him about these technicalities was like Beethoven plays piano for Trump.

As a result, the focus of their conversation gradually shifted from the mechs themselves to the competition. According to Simon and LCH, five rounds of the flag-capture battle had already taken place. To ensure the battles were as fair and transparent as possible, each round was broadcast live on the Karl Star Nation's interstellar dark web.

It was clear that the purpose of these live broadcasts was to show the super criminals' backers how their representatives were performing in the competition. But what no one expected was that from the second round onwards, these broadcasts sent the dark web into a frenzy. The Death Star, Ninth Prison, heavy criminals, infantry-level field mechs, no-holds-barred battles – all of these elements attracted a massive audience, with peak viewership reaching four billion.

Amidst this frenzy, betting organizations and underground casinos joined in, setting up betting pools for the Death Island competition and promoting it heavily. This led to a rapid increase in registered users on the dark web.

"Crazy, right?"

Perhaps because he was more talkative by nature, or maybe because he wasn't used to being the center of so much attention, LCH was visibly excited. He downed his glass of wine and said, "This level of heat, attention, and viewership even surpasses that of professional mech leagues. And we're just using basic infantry-level mechs – it's unbelievable. You... you don't seem to react at all."

Suddenly, LCH turned to look at Thomas, who had been quietly listening.

"What reaction do you want from me..." Thomas sipped his wine gently, his face expressionless.