The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History-Chapter 192 - 94: The Bloodstained Overalls

"Muhahaha, looks like you're still in good spirits..."

"So? Still holding out?"

Inside the gloomy prison, Queen was up to his usual "torment" of the two prisoners.

He gazed down at the two figures sprawled on the floor, gasping wildly like beasts, and let out a triumphant, wicked laugh.

"As long as you're willing to submit, all of this will end."

"Of course, personally, I'd rather you didn't. Specimens this perfect aren't easy to come by."

Queen puffed on his cigar with relish, blowing smoke rings as he occasionally glanced at the life monitors.

"Is that all you've got?"

Darren panted heavily, sneering.

The searing pain made it hard to breathe.

Bulging veins twisted grotesquely beneath his flushed, burning skin, pulsating with the pounding of his heart.

"Tch. Still mouthing off."

Queen's beady eyes narrowed with disdain.

"Once I finish installing the newest lab gear, I'll be able to develop a more potent strain of the virus. Then, you won't even be able to beg for mercy."

"Bastard!!"

Darren struggled to his feet, face twisted with fury, and hurled a punch toward Queen's pudgy face.

Queen easily caught his arm, sneering.

"Seastone isn't pleasant, huh? That was a soft little punch..."

He drove a heavy fist into Darren's gut. Darren's body folded like a cooked shrimp, blood spurting violently from his mouth.

It splattered across Queen's face and drenched his overalls.

Queen: ...

"You filthy little shit!! You dare spray blood all over my face!!"

Queen froze for a second, then exploded in rage.

He was about to roll up his sleeves and teach them a lesson when he saw the two of them collapsed on the floor like dying dogs, barely breathing. Grinding his teeth, he gave up.

"I'll deal with you after I clean myself up!"

Snarling, the fat man in suspenders slammed the cell door shut and stormed off.

Silence returned to the prison.

A minute passed.

Darren and Bullet slowly pushed themselves up from the filthy, stinking floor.

"You bastard... if you weren't a Marine, you could've made a hell of an actor."

Bullet, face pale, shot a weak glance at the dark-haired Marine.

Even though his body and resistance had improved, Queen's virus no longer did him serious damage.

But the agony of each injection still followed him like a shadow—never easing.

Darren wiped the blood from his lips and smiled.

"Who says you can't be a good actor and a Marine?"

Still catching his breath, he raised an eyebrow, voice teasing.

"There are plenty of Marines out there with better acting skills than me..."

Bullet scoffed with contempt.

"That fat bastard's going to be running in circles after you now. You piece of work..."

He recalled how he'd lost an arm to one of Darren's vicious tricks in their past clash, his jaw clenched with audible grit.

"...You're rotten."

"Thanks."

"Damn it! That wasn't a compliment!!"

Bullet roared in fury.

"You seriously piss people off, you know that?!"

Darren chuckled, leaning back against the damp wall, tilting his head up slightly, eyes dazed.

"Bullet, soon we'll break out. Once we're out... you ever thought about what you want to do?"

The flickering yellow light of an old oil lamp cast a warm glow, throwing a wavering shadow of the young Marine's profile on the wall.

Bullet gave Darren a puzzled look, the anger slowly fading from his face.

He fell silent for a few seconds, then slowly grinned wickedly.

"Be the strongest."

"That won't be easy."

Darren smiled.

Bullet sneered.

"You wouldn't get it. Just keep climbing ranks and be your good little Admiral."

"Don't get soft, Darren."

"Next time we meet, if you've gone weak—I'll twist your head off."

Darren narrowed his eyes with a grin.

"Same to you."

Just then, a low voice echoed from the wall between them.

"Lord Darren."

Ripples spread across the cracked wall. Senor's silhouette emerged within its watery surface.

"Everything's ready, just as you arranged. How's your side?"

Darren answered calmly:

"Proceed as planned."

Senor nodded.

"I'll head out then."

"Wait."

Just as Senor was about to vanish into the wall, Darren stopped him.

Senor turned back, patient.

"Any further orders, Lord Darren?"

Darren shook his head, then asked:

"Got a smoke?"

Senor blinked, checked his suit, and pulled out a crumpled pack.

"Only one left."

He handed the cigarette and lighter to Darren.

"One's enough."

Darren took the last cigarette and gently placed it between Senor's lips.

Senor stared, momentarily unsure how to react. freēwēbnovel.com

Click—

The lighter flared.

Darren tucked the pack and lighter back into Senor's jacket, stepping back.

"I'm a Marine. So I'll do it the Marine's way."

He smiled at Senor.

Then sharply raised his hand.

A perfect salute.

The Seastone cuffs clinked as he moved.

Senor's eyes widened, mouth slightly agape.

The lit cigarette clung to his lip, unmoving.

"Go. When we break out, let's sit down and share a smoke."

Darren lowered his arm, smiling.

Senor finally snapped out of it.

He took a deep drag and nodded firmly, then dove into the watery wall.

"...Yes, Lord Darren."

—

On the brown island terrain.

Northwest of the prison.

In a ten-meter-tall facility, room after room overflowed with experimental gear.

"Those damn bastards! They got my clothes all filthy!!"

Queen stormed into his quarters, grumbling. He finally wriggled his blubbery mass out of the tight overalls and tossed on a towel. Turning on the hot water, he headed to his wardrobe.

He opened it.

Dozens of identical, pristine pairs of overalls hung inside.

Queen grabbed one, humming, and hung it up. Then, remembering, he dug into the bloodied pair and pulled out a ring of keys, hanging those up too.

Still humming a tune—"Muhahaha"—he stepped into the shower.

The sound of rushing water filled the room. Steam coated the glass door. Behind it, the distorted silhouette of the big man danced and sang.

---

To be continued...