Prison [part 2]

As soon as I crossed the prison entrance, a huge metal gate closed behind me with a dull and final sound.

In front of me stretched a long, dimly lit corridor, the walls were cold and damp, and the air was dense and suffocating.

I cautiously approached, each step echoing in the oppressive silence.

I knew my adventure was about to begin.

I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes and trying to focus my thoughts.

The nanny's words echoed in my mind: physical strength, cunning, quick decision-making, and above all, never lose hope.

But above all, when she said:

"But remember, you are never truly alone. Even if you can't see me, I will be there, supporting you."

Even if she meant it metaphorically, I imagine it's not the right way to interpret it, given that she could actually be here and hiding her presence.

So, later I should try to verify this hypothesis.

With these thoughts, I began to move forward, and as I proceeded, I found myself facing what could be considered the first challenge: a huge room full of mechanical traps.

Darts were being shot from the walls at irregular intervals, while the floor was covered with tiles that, if stepped on, activated hidden traps.

I had to call upon all my agility and concentration to cross that minefield, carefully studying the movements of the darts and trying to predict their rhythm.

Having passed the first room, I found myself inside a vast corridor.

The stark contrast with the oppressive silence of the first challenge was evident: the corridor was animated by the buzz and movement of many inmates.

They were divided into two groups: some who looked more muscular and massive, while others were leaner and more agile.

But they all had one thing in common: the thirst for blood they emanated.

Despite this, some were engaged in intense conversations, others walked back and forth like caged animals, and some trained against stone walls or with each other.

I carefully observed the inmates, trying to quickly assess who they were and their level of danger.

When suddenly, everything stopped, and there was total silence.

Then, what seemed to be their leader said:

"Alright, now is not the time to hesitate. This is our chance!"

And right after that, many began to move forward, closing the distance between us.

I mentally prepared for the imminent clash.

The leader of the inmates advanced with a group of followers, ready to strike with fierce determination. I remembered the nanny's words and focused on the martial forms I had learned and mastered.

Despite their bloodlust, the inmates did not have good teamwork and attacked in a disorganized manner, allowing me to face them one at a time.

The first martial form, which emphasized stability and power, allowed me to plant my feet firmly on the ground.

With a fluid movement, I struck the first opponent with devastating force, sending him to the ground. I felt the bones in my legs and feet resonate with the impact, but I remained steady.

The second inmate was more agile and faster.

I used the second martial form, which taught speed and explosiveness.

My muscles contracted rapidly, allowing me to dodge his attacks and counterattack with precision.

Every movement was calculated, every blow aimed at vital points.

As the fight continued, I began to feel fatigue setting in.

I switched to the third martial form, which emphasized endurance and stamina.

I regulated my breathing, allowing the blood to flow efficiently and maintaining a steady rhythm.

Every blow I received was absorbed and transformed into energy to keep fighting.

Finally, when I faced a particularly stubborn opponent, I decided to test my hypothesis.

I used the fourth martial form, which taught recoverability and flexibility.

And, with a deliberate movement, I let his blow pierce my shoulder.

So, I stood there, observing the surroundings carefully. But there was no trace of the nanny.

No sign that she was there to support me.

So, I continued, with the pain exploding like fire in my shoulder, but I maintained control and exploited my opponent's moment of vulnerability.

With a furious cry, I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards me, feeling his bone shatter under my grip.

Blood gushed from my wound, staining my clothes and running down my arm.

Every movement caused a new wave of pain, but I didn't allow myself the luxury of stopping.

I used my opponent's body as a shield, protecting myself from subsequent attacks while trying to recover.

I threw myself with my human shield towards the advancing group of inmates, pushing him against them to create confusion.

I felt other blows impact against my opponent's body, cushioning the attacks as I tried to gain ground.

With a titanic effort, I threw the now lifeless body towards my enemies, causing a momentary dispersion.

I faced the next inmate with fierce calm.

My movements became a continuous flow, combining precision and brutality.

The third martial form allowed me to absorb the blows and respond with unstoppable force.

Well-aimed strikes to vital points, using my experience to exploit every visible weakness.

One after another, the inmates fell.

My hands moved with lightning speed, grabbing arms, necks, and legs, breaking bones and subduing my opponents.

Every blow was a cry of survival, a declaration that I would not be stopped.

The leader of the inmates was the last one standing.

His face was contorted with rage and fear as he lunged at me.

I used the fourth martial form, recoverability and flexibility, allowing my body to adapt and absorb the energy of the attack.

I let him hit my side, then grabbed his hand with an iron grip.

With a fluid and decisive movement, I twisted his arm, feeling the tendons give way, and threw him to the ground.

Silence fell in the corridor, broken only by the groans of the defeated inmates and my labored breaths.

Blood flowed freely from my shoulder, a constant pain that threatened to overwhelm me.

But I remained standing, with the awareness that I had won.