"Man... you guys seriously need a television or something."

Red’s voice carried across the square before silence followed.

The two prisoners fighting at the front froze and turned toward the source of the voice. The guards frowned and looked in the same direction, while the rest of the prisoners held their breaths, their eyes widening in dread.

A moment later, every gaze was fixed on Red.

"Hey, kid..." Charm growled under his breath. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Gin winced as he looked at Red.

"Shit," he muttered through gritted teeth. "He’s going to ruin everything."

Was Gin stressed?

Absolutely.

He knew Red well enough to know the man could forget an entire plan the moment his emotions took over. Rum might be uncontrollable during battle, but Red was far more brutal once he snapped.

Deep down, Gin wished he had fought harder to convince Ashley to send Khan instead.

But she had been adamant and chose Red.

He’s going to ruin the plan!

Gin glanced around, wondering whether the others were watching or if some of them had already completed their assignments.

It was still too early.

"What the fuck did you say?" one of the guards demanded as he stepped forward, his eyes locked on Red.

Red shrugged casually.

"I said I can’t believe this qualifies as entertainment for you." He scoffed. "It’s fucking pathetic. There’s a reason people used to watch gladiators."

His lips curled. "At least they knew how to put up a good fight."

The guards stared at the young man, openly criticizing them. Then they glanced toward their captain.

The man lifted his chin.

"Drag him over here," he ordered.

The guards immediately approached Red. When they stopped in front of him, their eyes were cold and sharp. One of them reached out to grab him.

Red smoothly leaned back.

In the next second, he caught the man’s arm and drove his fist straight into his face. The punch sent the guard crashing onto his rear.

"Ugh!" Blood immediately pooled inside the man’s mouth.

A collective gasp swept through the square.

Everyone froze.

Everyone except Gin, who mentally screamed as he grabbed his hair in distress.

"Keep your fucking hands off me," Red muttered.

He shook out the hand he had used before calmly walking toward the front on his own. He stopped beside the two prisoners and straightened his back.

His gaze dropped briefly toward them.

Blood trickled from their noses, and tears stained their faces.

"What are you doing?" the injured prisoner asked through ragged breaths.

Red gave him no answer. He simply turned toward the guards.

"You want a good fight?" he challenged. "Come at me."

His gaze settled on the captain—the same guard who had taken them off the bus and shoved Gin earlier.

"I’ll pulverize every last one of you motherfuckers."

Red hadn’t forgotten what the man had done. He had been thinking about how he would kill him ever since.

"Red!" Gin hissed desperately. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gin glanced around again and caught the other prisoners staring at Red.

None of them dared speak, but their expressions said everything: "Do you have a fucking death wish?"

Of course that was their first reaction.

By now, Gin understood that these men had been conditioned to grit their teeth and endure. They had learned to watch silently, even when everything happening before them went against whatever integrity or beliefs they had left.

But Gin was worried about something else entirely.

His thoughts were interrupted by another pained grunt. When he turned back, he saw another guard tumbling away after Red kicked him squarely in the chest.

"What the hell are you doing?" the captain snarled. "Get him!"

Red smirked and took several steps forward. He stopped only when the injured prisoner and the trembling newcomer were directly behind him.

Then, much to Gin’s surprise, Red suddenly raised both hands in surrender.

The guards wasted no time. Several men rushed forward and seized his arms.

"Fucking rookie." A third guard stopped in front of Red and drove a powerful fist into his stomach.

"Ugh!" Red gritted his teeth and hunched slightly, but the guards gripping his arms kept him upright.

Another blow struck his stomach.

Then one landed across his cheek.

Another hit the opposite side.

The attacks came one after another without pause.

Gin froze as he watched Red take every blow.

"Red..." he whispered. "What are you..."

He wasn’t the only one staring. Everyone watched as Red allowed himself to be beaten without fighting back.

After several moments, Charm glanced toward the two prisoners sitting on the ground behind him.

Red had positioned himself directly between them and the guards.

Like a shield.

The realization slowly spread through the crowd. Their expressions shifted.

At first, they had panicked, thinking Red was about to cause trouble that would make all of them suffer.

Now they understood. He had deliberately drawn the guards’ attention away from the two prisoners to stop the cruel fight.

Gin blinked, holding his breath as blood began to drip from the corner of Red’s mouth.

When the guards finally released him, Red collapsed to the ground.

He instinctively raised an arm over his head as three men began kicking him from different directions.

"Red..." Gin whispered again. His hands curled into fists, and his shoulders stiffened. "Madam..."

Old Fool, who stood beside him, turned after hearing the strange mumble.

He ignored it at first.

Then Gin spoke again. "Will you forgive us if we can’t take this anymore?"

What Red was doing felt completely out of character.

Rum might improvise for his own amusement, but Red usually destroyed plans because of his temper. The only reason anyone tolerated it was because he still somehow accomplished the mission.

But now, Red was letting himself get beaten.

All because Ashley had insisted they save as many victims as possible.

Perhaps Gin had been wrong.

Perhaps Red wasn’t only enduring this because he wanted to follow Ashley’s orders.

Maybe... Red wanted to save these men too.

Gin’s thoughts halted when Charm, several rows away, suddenly stepped forward.

But before he could say anything, a rifle was loaded and cocked.

Click.

Everyone froze.

Their heads snapped toward Red. Their already widened eyes grew even larger when they saw a guard pressing the muzzle of a rifle against Red’s forehead.

The captain sauntered toward him and stopped beside the armed guard.

"Hah." He spat at Red. "Arrogant little mutt."

Red scoffed and wiped his cheek. Even while sprawled on the ground, he remained unfazed by the weapon pressed against his forehead.

The captain’s smirk slowly faded at Red’s unyielding expression.

"It’s only one man," he said, glancing at the guard. "And a troublesome one at that."

His eyes returned to Red.

"Kill him."