Chapter 2: Want to Kill Me?

In this universe, there are two main categories of superpowered beings: warriors and sorcerers who develop and strengthen their own physical powers, and gene warriors and iron riders who rely on technological means. The former enhance their physical and abilities through gene injections, while the latter battle by piloting powerful mechs.

It's worth mentioning that, although gene warriors and iron riders rely more on technology, these professions are actually rarer than warriors and sorcerers. The genetic compatibility required for gene warriors eliminates countless individuals, and the survival and success rates after injection are very low, making it a one-in-a-hundred chance.

Iron riders are even rarer. Piloting a mech, especially a lower-level one, whether manually or through neural connection, does not require high qualifications, making it seem accessible to everyone. However, it's often these seemingly low-threshold professions that are the hardest to excel in due to one unmeasurable factor: talent. 

For example, in the professional leagues of the well-known game League of Legends, there are hundreds of millions of players globally, and most have watched professional matches and harbored unrealistic dreams of playing professionally. Yet, only a few hundred actually become professional players.

The rarity of professional iron riders is similar to that of professional players in the gaming world, perhaps even rarer.

In the current situation, all prisoners in the prison wear collars that suppress their abilities, meaning superpowered beings cannot use their skills. If the mech in front of them could operate and had a professional iron rider in the cockpit, it would wreak havoc in the prison. But that would be the extent of it. 

Mechs, whether individual or field types, are classified from low to high as soldier, vanguard, general, overlord, titan, etc. Eddie could tell that the field mech in front of him was just the lowest soldier class. Even in pristine condition, it would only be able to dominate among the prisoners, unable to breach the extensive defenses of the Ninth Prison.

What puzzled Eddie was why such a mech would appear in the prison, especially one that looked like it had just been in a battle. Were prison bullies now using such machines?

The bald man and the curly-haired youth brought the mech to a warehouse-like room. Inside, Eddie saw lathes, welding guns, hinges, wrenches, and various tools neatly arranged, emitting the scent of machine oil. 

"So many professional tools... Do they plan to repair this mech?" Eddie wondered, frowning.

Although he was far from the mech, his keen vision told him it was on the brink of being scrapped. Repairing a soldier-class mech in such a condition would cost more in manpower and time than obtaining a new one. 

Was it a collectible? Unlikely.

Some collectors in the universe, similar to Earth's wealthy who collect vintage cars, have a hobby of collecting antique mechs. From its appearance, this mech certainly had some age. But if it were a collectible, why use it in combat? Who would use an antique as a weapon? That seemed extravagantly wasteful.

Eddie's curiosity grew as he observed the duo. The curly-haired youth brought out many tools from the warehouse, thoroughly inspecting the mech from top to bottom. After over ten minutes, he returned to the bald man with a disappointed shake of his head. The bald man's expression darkened, his presence becoming even more oppressive.

A master... Eddie narrowed his eyes slightly. This man, despite wearing a suppressing collar, could still noticeably affect the environment, signifying his strength far exceeded that of other prisoners. No wonder the other inmates reacted like mice to a cat around him.

Suddenly, as if sensing Eddie's gaze, the bald man glanced in his direction. That single look made Eddie feel as if a ferocious beast had locked onto him. Eddie quickly averted his eyes, stepping back to show he meant no offense.

His primary goal was to leave the Ninth Prison, and he needed to keep a low profile among the prisoners. Drawing too much attention could lead to unnecessary trouble. But avoiding trouble doesn't mean trouble won't find him.

Soon, Eddie felt he was being targeted. Looking around, he locked his gaze on a tall alloy building. At the top floor, behind a floor-to-ceiling window, stood Jesse Moss, watching him with a cold, mocking smile.

Realizing something, Eddie knew he had made a mistake. During the interrogation, he sensed Jesse was probing his background. Although he didn't know who was behind her, he understood that revealing his secrets would have led to her acting against him. So he intentionally angered her to stop the interrogation.

But now, it seemed his actions had backfired. The menopausal warden no longer feared the unknown aspects of his background and seemed determined to kill him.

Eddie looked back at Jesse, then turned away, noticing two inmates approaching him – two warriors.

"This isn't going to be fun," Eddie muttered, frowning.

The physical strength of warriors was much stronger than other systems. With everyone's abilities suppressed by the collars, warriors had an easy time against other types.

In a blink, the two had Eddie cornered.

"Want to kill me?" Eddie asked directly.

The two inmates were momentarily stunned by his straightforwardness, but one of them soon nodded with a vicious smile, "Looks like you're prepared. Yes, someone wants you dead."

"Can we negotiate?"

"Negotiate?" The two exchanged glances, their smiles cruel, "Negotiate whether to leave you a whole corpse?"

Eddie narrowed his eyes in understanding.

The surrounding inmates, noticing the scene, watched with interest. In the Ninth Prison, where the escape success rate was zero but the death rate was not insignificant, such fights were a monthly occurrence and served as entertainment.

They were curious to see how a seemingly fragile young man like Eddie would react to notorious murderers. Would he cry, beg for mercy, or offer himself up in desperation? The struggle of the weak in the face of death always brought them a perverse pleasure.

But this time, their expectations were doomed to be unmet.

"You can't kill me..." Eddie said confidently after a moment's thought.

"Can't kill you?" The inmates laughed incredulously, "Kid, who do you think you are? I can crush your head with one hand. What makes you say that?"

"Because of him." Eddie pointed casually.

Everyone followed Eddie's gesture to see the annoyed bald man.

The area fell silent.