Chapter 242

The door's hinges groaned, and both Eugene and Vic fell silent. A man stepped in—average height, average build, wearing clothes that could've been picked off any department store rack. Nothing special about him, nothing that screamed 'evil prison guard' or 'psychotic jailer.' He looked like someone you'd pass on the street without a second glance.

Eugene cleared his throat. "Hey, uh—"

The man didn't even look at him, just bent down and placed two wrapped sandwiches on the floor, along with what looked like water spheres—those self-contained liquid bubbles that had replaced bottles a few decades back. Standard prison fare, probably, though Eugene hadn't expected anything this normal in a place that looked straight out of a history book.

"Come on, man," he tried again. "Where are we? What's going on?"