The Conqueror Of Cities!-Chapter 62 Zehar Is Full Of Questions

62 Zehar Is Full Of Questions

After completing my classes for the day, I returned to my cell block.

As soon as I entered, a ripple of motion surged through the room. Men seated on the cold, metal jail benches sprang to their feet, while others who had been languidly lounging within their cells emerged into the narrow walkway. A synchronized wave of fifty inmates, each of them bowing deeply.

It was a scene that resonated with the respect I had amassed between the two cell blocks that I had taken under my control. The atmosphere crackled with a subdued energy, an acknowledgment of my newfound position of authority.

Seeing them all bow including Zehar really made me feel like a king. For a few fleeting moments, I stood there, absorbing the gravity of the gesture, before the men gradually resumed their activities, dispersing like leaves in a gentle breeze.

Climbing the creaking metal stairs, I ascended to my cell. The air was thick with the scent of confinement and the faint hum of fluorescent lights. My bunk bed, a modest piece of furniture in the cramped space, beckoned to me. I jumped on it and drifted off to sleep.

Exhaustion was catching up to me, ever since I came here I was fighting non-stop, and it took a toll on my body.

Hours later, the persistent insistence of reality clawed me back from my slumber. It was Zehar, his voice a gentle nudge, shaking me awake from the dreamland where I had sought refuge. My eyes fluttered open, and as the haze of sleep gradually lifted, I saw his figure standing beside me.

Still grappling with the remnants of drowsiness, I wiped a strand of drool from the corner of my mouth and fixed my gaze on him. A rush of annoyance bubbled up within me, my hard-earned rest had been interrupted, and I was quick to let my frustration be known.

"What the fuck are you doing man! Don't you see I'm sleeping?"

Zehar's voice wavered with an apology, his eyes downcast. "I-I'm sorry, bro. I just wanted to ask you something."

Taking a deep breath, I slowly transitioned from irritation to a more alert state. I sat up on the edge of the bed, stifling a yawn as I did so. "Yea what do you want?"

He fetched the sole chair in our cell, placing it before me and taking a seat. The metal chair creaked slightly under his weight. Zehar's gaze was earnest, his expression eager, as if he were about to unveil a piece of his soul.

"What are we going to do now?" His words hung in the air, filled with uncertainty.

Perching on the edge of the bed, my sleepiness began to ebb away, replaced by thoughts, "What do you mean bro?"

Zehar's hands fidgeted slightly, betraying his impatience. "I've got this itch, you know? A craving to fight. Can't we do something, anything?"

I looked at him quizzically, "Huh? Weren't you against violence? why are you so eager to fight now?"

A rueful smile tugged at his lips as he shifted in his chair. "You had a point back then, Dionis. I've done some thinking. I was naive to believe I could change things without using force. But since meeting you, you've opened my eyes. I understand now that fighting is necessary to make dreams come true."

I leaned back, considering his words. "Damn ok? I don't get why fixing this place is your dream? once you're gone you'll never see this place again… Maybe prison but not this shit."

"You're right, but this juvenile prison is a big part of our family legacy."

"The fuck are you talking about now?"

Zehar's eyes gleamed with a fervor that matched the earnestness in his voice. "It's bigger than just me, man. This prison – it's woven into my family's legacy. My father, grandfather, uncles – all of them were once imprisoned here in their childhood. And now, I find myself here too. My grandfather started the concept of gangs and all that within this prison, and my entire family continued the legacy. However, I intentionally entered to fix the mistake my family had made. I am determined to transform this prison!"

"What a stupid fucking reason... But from today onward whenever someone brings up the concept of a hero, you're the first thing that will come to my mind – giving up a significant portion of your childhood to fix someone else's actions, and subjecting yourself to almost daily torment as a result. It-It's crazy, man."

A brief, awkward chuckle escaped him, his hand running through his hair. "Yeah, I guess it's a bit insane. But thanks, man."

I scoffed, pushing myself up from the bed. "Wasn't a compliment, idiot." A genuine smile played on my lips as I ambled towards the cell door. Resting against the railing, I peered down at the assembly of inmates below. Zehar joined me, the two of us framed against the rusty rail.

"As for your initial question," I began, letting my words drift into the still air, "we need to recover from our last brawl. So, we wait. And once we're recovered we'll do a full on attack on all the gangs on this cringy ass prison. I still can't get over the lone wolf shit and the animal gang names HAHAAHAH."

"Fighting the Bear gang won't be easy, out of all the 9 cell blocks he rules 6 of them basically the majority, and he alone can take an entire cell block, he's a terminator hahahahaha." Zehar made a joke, seemingly aware that his words could potentially shake my confidence. However, in truth, I didn't think much of it.

"Tsk, stop overhyping him," I countered with a dismissive wave of my hand "he'll be under my feet soon enough."

Zehar's lips curved into a wide smile, as I lifted his spirit up because I was the only one in the prison not fearing him. He looked down at the ground floor and asked. "The Fools, huh? Why that name?"

A chuckle rumbled from deep within my chest, "You've got an insatiable appetite for questions, don't you?" I mused, my gaze fixed on his eyes, "The name, is a joke aimed at every sorry soul trapped in this juvenile prison. They fight wars devoid of purpose, seeking power that crumbles like sand. It's a mockery, a reminder that they're dancing to a tune of nonsense. Even Damir the leader of the Bear gang is nothing outside these walls."

"Yea for sure, but you are too, once you're the biggest leader you'll get out and be again a normal teenager." Zehar logically critiqued and to a normal teenager he was correct, but he was talking to me, a fucking mob boss.

A smirk curled upon my lips, my demeanor exuding a mix of defiance and confidence. "HAHAHAHA, Yes, true enough, but you forgot one thing... I'm not a fucking loser! I have something much bigger than the title of the best in this prison on my name."

"Ah, yes, of course, and what's that?" he retorted, his eyes narrowing playfully.

I leaned in, my voice lowering to a secrety tone. "The complexity of my action, my friend, will soon uncover before your very eyes. Patience, Zehar." I said with a wink, trying to act like I was in a movie.

"Really? Can't wait to hear your lies hahahaha."

"Yea yea, but let's go to sleep now and tomorrow I'll give out the order for total domination muhahaha." I laughed like a cartoon villain and walked back to my cell and jumped on my bunk bed where I feel asleep quickly.