Two years. Two long, grueling years had passed since I first stepped into this prison. Fights, alliances, calculated moves—it had all forged me into something feared, respected, a force no one dared challenge.
I walked into the cafeteria, the usual clatter of trays and chatter fading into silence as every eye turned toward me. Heads bowed, whispers stopped mid-word. Even the toughest inmates froze mid-step, careful not to meet my gaze.
Across the hall, the VIP rooms were visible through narrow windows. Inside, powerful inmates—men of influence in their own right—paused their conversations. Some nodded subtly, some lowered their eyes. Even those accustomed to authority acknowledged the man who had quietly become the apex of this prison.
I moved through the cafeteria with calm authority. A glance here, a slight nod there, and minor disputes dissipated instantly. Power wasn't loud; it was presence, discipline, and the understanding of every rule and shadow in this place.
The atmosphere shifted suddenly—a ripple of tension spreading through the room. Guards and inmates alike stiffened. The high-ranking Kurohane-gumi member had arrived, entering as an inmate. Word of his presence had spread like wildfire. Even here, inside walls lined with steel and whispers of violence, his reputation carried weight.
I was formally introduced, bowing slightly out of respect. He returned it with a faint smile, eyes calm. He was here not to assert dominance, not to challenge anyone. He was here to serve his sentence quietly, to relax, and enjoy the controlled freedom this place allowed.
"Akira Hasegawa," he said, voice low but carrying authority, "Jun's told me a lot about you. You've done very well."
"Thank you, sir," I replied, keeping my tone respectful but steady.
He nodded approvingly. "Two years in this environment, and you've earned respect, loyalty, and control. That is no small feat. Once you're out, Kurohane-gumi has plans for you. Positions of power, influence… the leader himself wishes to meet you."
I absorbed it silently. This was more than survival; this was recognition from someone who could wield power far beyond these walls.
I glanced around. Even in this moment, my influence remained clear. Inmates bowed as I passed, VIPs observed me with quiet respect, and guards and the warden proceeded with careful deference. Even the high-ranking Kurohane-gumi inmate observed my control, impressed not just by strength, but by strategy, discretion, and respect for hierarchy.
For a moment, I reflected on how far I'd come—from an orphaned teenager caught for burglary to the undisputed apex of this prison. Yet even as I felt the weight of power, I understood the rules: respect those above you, maintain control below, and always plan ahead.
The Kurohane-gumi member eventually turned away, settling into his private cell with the air of someone at ease. I remained standing, letting the realization sink in. The prison was mine, yes, but the streets, the world outside—the real game—awaited.
I stepped out, walking through the corridors where whispers of my name followed like shadows. I wasn't just surviving anymore. I was a player.
And soon, the world beyond these walls would see exactly what I was capable of.