The moment Soren and the other two entered, the smaller prisoner approached a group of people he shook hands with in a certain rhythm.
They smiled, and some embraced him, happy to have him, like they had been waiting on him.
Soren, on the other hand, could not help but look around, wondering how he had hopped from the track of wanting to accomplish his dreams to rolling with unsavory fellas.
Life
He mumbled to himself.
The tiger-faced guy was the same, leaving Soren to a corner.
Even though three people had entered this place, Soren easily noticed one thing: all eyes were on him.
Some were even sneering, hissing, and spitting in disgust.
Although it was for a different reason than calling him Dungie or F—rank trash, the treatment was still the same.
He was used to it.
The first thing Soren noticed was that this place had a mix of genders.
Some women were doing workouts with the men, some playing a rag ball.
