The morning at Carlson Labor Reformation Camp begins with the sound of a trumpet blaring through a loudspeaker.
A gloomy tone, as low and heavy as a death sentence, wakes Kairus.
“All inmates, as of this moment! Wake up! Get up, you bastards! Block leaders, prepare for roll call!”
The shout echoes through the prison corridors, where thin layers of ice cling to the walls.
“That damn guard must’ve been fathered by a rooster.”
One of the prisoners sharing a room with Kairus mutters under his breath.
Meanwhile, Kairus shivers from the cold as he slowly rises from his bed.
“Traitor, what’s the temperature?”
The room leader calls out to Kairus.
Traitor.
That’s the nickname given to Kairus by the criminals in this dump.
Brushing the frost from his eyebrows, Kairus checks the thermometer hanging outside the iron bars.
“Minus 27 degrees. Another refreshing morning. Sure wakes you right up.”
“Shit. Minus 27? Even the ink in my damn eyeballs is gonna freeze solid!”
A sound of groans rises from the prisoners.
With sighs, they exhale clouds of white breath, rubbing their hands together in a futile attempt to warm up.
In this brutal cold, no one would be surprised if frost formed inside their lungs.
One of the prisoners suddenly lets out a questioning grunt and looks toward someone lying nearby.
“The hell? Why isn’t this bastard getting up? Hey!”
While the rest are busy puffing out warm breaths and rubbing their frozen hands together, the fallen inmate shows no such signs.
Even after being smacked hard enough to make a loud thud, he doesn’t stir.
“He’s dead.”
The conclusion comes quickly.
Carlson Labor Reformation Camp is located in a remote, extreme climate zone, where summer temperatures rarely rise above freezing.
And now, it’s midwinter.
Combine the harsh environment with hastily built prison cells and meager rations, and a prisoner who was alive yesterday can magically turn into a frozen corpse by morning.
“Block Three, report.”
“One frozen to death. The rest are still here.”
At the room leader’s report, the block leader steps in, glances at the corpse, and clicks his tongue.
“Damn it.”
Unlike other reformation camps, Carlson’s prisoner blocks aren’t managed by guards but by fellow inmates.
The guards’ only duties are to prevent escapes and conduct occasional patrols.
Whatever happens inside, they don’t care.
“Take care of it on your way to breakfast.”
“Understood.”
Just as the block leader is about to leave, he glances at Kairus.
“Oh, and Traitor. I was thinking of writing a letter today.”
“Understood.”
Kairus nods at the block leader’s words.
Most prisoners at Carlson can’t read or write.
Kairus is an exception.
He knows how to read and write.
“Sending it home? I’ll see you after work.”
“Yeah, yeah. How much was it again?”
“Three cigarettes per 200 characters, but since it’s you, two will do.”
Being literate has been a major factor in Kairus surviving six years in Carlson.
“What the hell? You can write?”
One of the inmates listening in stares at Kairus in surprise.
A newcomer from two days ago.
A man who got drunk, stabbed someone to death in a fight.
Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to land someone in Carlson.
But after killing his victim, he also murdered an old woman who saw the scene and screamed.
“Where’d you learn? Did you scam some noble or something?”
Despite the offensive tone, Kairus answers indifferently.
“Before I came here, I was a noble’s son. Now, I’m a traitor.”
Hearing this, the man’s expression turns even more intrigued.
“So it’s not just a nickname. You were a real traitor?”
When Kairus’s family’s rebellion plot was exposed, every direct blood relative—except for him—was executed.
“Isn’t treason an instant death sentence? How are you still alive?”
“Got lucky.”
He had been studying abroad at the time, meaning he couldn’t have participated in the rebellion.
He was also only seventeen—a minor.
These two factors spared him from execution.
Instead, he was sentenced to life imprisonment at Carlson.
The newcomer inches closer with a smirk.
“I see. Anyway, mind writing me a letter too?”
Kairus nods.
“You heard the price, right?”
Two hundred characters for three cigarettes. Or something of equivalent value.
Hearing this, the man’s smirk twists into a scowl.
“Price? You little shit. You think I’m a joke just because I asked nicely?”
He spits on the ground, grabs Kairus by the collar.
“You’re pissing me off. You wanna die? You wanna squeal like a pig when I stab you—”
Unfortunately for him, he never gets to finish.
A chunk of brick in Kairus’s hand slams into his mouth.
Blood splatters instantly, shattered teeth clattering to the ground.
No hesitation.
No words.
Kairus simply and relentlessly pounds the man’s face with his fists, stone still lodged in his mouth.
To survive among prisoners, you don’t give favours for free.
And you don’t let anyone think they can walk over you.
Kairus has abided by these two rules for six years.
“Ugh… gh…”
He lifts the battered man’s head by his hair, staring him in the eyes.
“I don’t ask people if they want to die. Why would I care what a dead man has to say?”
With a heavy thud, Kairus slams the man’s head into the cold, hard stone floor.
Watching the scene unfold, the other prisoners share the same thought.
Idiot.
Of all people, why’d he have to pick a fight with Kairus?
“That crazy bastard.”
Kairus isn’t just notorious in Block Three.
Even in the entire Carlson Reformation Camp, people like him are rare.
He’s calm as long as no one provokes him.
But if someone does, he snaps in ways no one can predict.
Because of this temper, he’s been thrown into solitary confinement three times.
Three times.
Even the most violent inmates return from that hellhole broken like castrated roosters.
But Kairus?
Still the same.
“Hey, hey. Traitor, that’s enough. If we have to clear out two corpses before breakfast, it’ll be a shitty start to the day.”
The room leader finally intervenes.
Kairus lets go of the man’s blood-soaked hair.
“Breakfast is just that damn moss again anyway.”
When winter arrives, the Carlson Labor Reformation Camp makes porridge with edible moss and serves it to the prisoners.
Kairus nudged the face of a fallen inmate with the tip of his foot and spoke.
“Hey, you haven’t been here long, have you? You must have a decent layer of fat from all the food you stuffed yourself with outside. Should we grill your belly fat instead of eating this moss crap?”
The inmate, lying face down and dripping blood from his mouth, trembled at Kairus’s words.
“Can’t even joke around without worrying you’ll pass out.”
Kairus spat on the crown of the man’s head.
“Let’s not get into fights with our cellmates. Courtesy and respect foster kindness.”
And so, another morning was about to begin, with a bit of commotion as usual.
Eating garbage food, working all day as assigned, eating again, and praying to wake up the next morning without freezing to death.
A daily routine, the punishment criminals rightfully deserved.
The crime of treason committed by his family was also Kairus’s crime. That’s why he believed this harsh life was the punishment he deserved.
“Everyone, heads down, you bastards!”
But with the sudden sound of a whistle, the daily routine of the past six years was about to change.
“What, what the hell!?”
The cell leader’s face instantly turned pale.
“Shit, it’s the guards.”
“They did a prisoner search just a week ago. Are they doing that crap again?”
“You idiot. That’s not possible.”
This wasn’t a routine inspection. The guards rarely entered the labor reformation camp. And when they did, it always meant trouble.
With the sound of rattling chains, the guards entered the prison block.
The prisoners immediately dropped to the floor, pressing their faces down and starting to pray.
The door to Kairus’s cell suddenly burst open. All the prisoners inside instinctively squeezed their eyes shut. Whatever was happening, the guards had business in their room.
“Who here is Kairus?”
At that voice, Kairus, still pressed flat against the ground, answered.
“I am.”
“Rise and show respect. This is a decree from the omnipotent and wise leader of the Empire, the one and only Sun.”
A decree from the Emperor?
After six years, the etiquette he thought he’d never use again suddenly had a purpose.
Kairus slowly rose, knelt on one knee, and bowed his head. The man standing before him wasn’t a guard but a knight in full uniform.
‘Has His Majesty changed his mind and decided to execute me instead of leaving me to rot in a life sentence?’
If so, it couldn’t be helped. A traitor deserved an appropriate end. With solemn composure, Kairus responded with the required courtesy.
“This unworthy and sinful body humbly receives the voice of the Sun.”
“Through further investigation, your family’s treason has been found to be baseless.”
For a brief moment, Kairus nearly forgot all etiquette and snapped his head up.
Wait a minute.
‘Baseless? Baseless? Did he just say baseless!?’
It felt as if someone had poured molten lava into his skull—his mind boiled with rage.
‘Then what the hell were these six years I spent here for? Why did my entire family have to die!?’
Kairus had truly believed his family had plotted rebellion. That’s why he had accepted everything, resigning himself to a slow death in this hell.
But now—
‘Now, after all this time?’
Kairus had no family left. Not even distant relatives. They were all dead. And he had wasted six years of his life in this wretched place.
“If you have anything to say, speak.”
Something to say? A torrent of fiery curses nearly burst from Kairus’s lips. But instead, he made a different choice.
“It is an infinite honour and joy that the omnipotent and wise leader of the Empire, the one and only Sun, has come to understand my family’s loyalty, even now.”
This was the correct answer. He had to say it. There was no other option.
He had to leave this place. That was the only thing that mattered right now. He had to get out. No matter what.
Kairus repeated it over and over in his mind.
“Effective immediately, your life sentence is revoked. However, the mere fact that you were suspected of treason means you had not earned His Majesty’s full trust.”
Hearing those words, Kairus was struck by the sheer absurdity of it all.
So, the reason the Emperor had doubted the Featherwing family was because they had not displayed enough loyalty?
‘That’s the most ridiculous load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.’
Kairus remained silent, merely listening.
Go on, keep talking.
“You will not regain what you once had, but you have been granted the grace of freedom. You should be grateful beyond measure.”
His life sentence was revoked. He would be a free man. But everything his family once possessed—he would never get any of it back.
Not even his status.
From this moment onward, Kairus was a commoner.
“Once more, as a proud and loyal subject of the great Balorn Empire, you now have the honour of serving its eternal glory. Be grateful, and be grateful again.”
“Prepare to leave immediately.”
To this, Kairus responded,
“I request a day’s delay.”
“For what reason?”
Kairus raised his head and looked at the armored knight.
“I made a promise to the head of this prison block to help him with something after work.”
He had promised to write a letter on the man’s behalf.
The knight looked at Kairus with an expression of utter disbelief. Here was a man who could finally escape this hellhole, yet he wanted to stay an extra day over some trivial promise. It was an insane thing to say.
Captivating intro, gonna add this to my read list
Oh, was it now? Hmm, it does seem like an interesting start.