Chapter Thirty-Six: The Senior Class Three Prison Theme Park

"Ah... it hurts so much. Is that bastard insane? When I get back, I’ll make sure he goes to jail for this."

A string of curses echoed in the small space as the K-pop boy rubbed his throbbing temples and staggered to his feet. Yet, the moment he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, he was utterly bewildered.

He found himself in a cramped room, perhaps four or five square meters in size. Apart from a single iron door that resembled the bars of a prison cell, there were only three cold stone walls. On one of the walls, the number 22 was carved clearly.

"Is this... a prison? A-Long, Jun, Ah-Yi... are you here? Hey, teacher, Mr. Fang—damn it!"

Panic-stricken, the K-pop boy clung to the icy iron door, shouting at the top of his lungs, but his cries were met with nothing but echoing silence.

He had no idea how long he’d been shouting before, just as he was about to give up, he faintly heard someone calling his name.

"Oppa, is that you?"

The K-pop boy started—he immediately recognized the voice. Gripping the iron bars, he shouted back.

"Xiao Yin? Is that you? It’s me, it’s Oppa!"

"Oppa? Xiao Yin? This is Ah-Yi. Where are you guys?"

"Ah-Yi! My God, it’s such a relief to hear your voices. It’s me, Clear Breeze."

One after another, the voices of almost every student rang through the empty prison. Realizing they were not alone, the fear that gripped them gradually subsided.

Slowly, they began exchanging information about their situations.

"We seem to have been brought into this prison by that freak teacher. There’s only a chamber pot and a number 20 on my wall."

"A chamber pot? That’s lucky. I’m in Room 22—there’s nothing but three walls."

"Well, looks like our accommodations differ. I’m in Room 18. Besides a chamber pot, there’s a quilt and a pillow on the floor."

"I’m in Room 15. I’ve got a toilet and a single bed."

"Haha... you guys have it rough. I’m in Room 10, and it’s huge—looks like a standard hotel room. Private bathroom, hot water twenty-four seven."

"Hey, I’m in Room 8... wow, this place is incredible! It’s better than my house. Are you sure this is a prison?"

Lin Jun was the most notorious troublemaker in Class Three, senior year. He was a fierce fighter, and many classmates feared him. While everyone was still comparing their rooms, Lin Jun suddenly barked impatiently.

"Enough! Stop bragging! Have you all forgotten that we’ve been kidnapped?"

His words stunned everyone. Only then did they recall what had happened on the bus and fell silent. The K-pop boy had always followed Lin Jun’s lead at school. Hearing Lin Jun speak, he asked,

"Jun, which room are you in? I’m in 22, and this damned cell is completely bare."

Before Lin Jun could reply, Ah-Yi, the class’s second-in-command, swore,

"Shit, you should be grateful. I’m in Room 27. It’s barely two square meters, the floor’s uneven, and I can’t even stretch my legs out when I lie down. Damn it, is that Fang guy insane? He’s locked us in this godforsaken place—what does he want?"

"Yeah, is he after money? But even if he is, why kidnap so many of us?"

"Jun, did you know Mr. Fang before? Is he some kind of lunatic who likes playing kidnapping games?"

"Jun, say something. What the hell is going on? I want to go home!"

"Jun..."

At that moment, Lin Jun roared,

"Enough! Everyone shut up!"

In truth, Lin Jun was just as desperate to know what this madman Fang Nian wanted. Compared to the others, his cell seemed designed purely to torment. It was less than a square meter—barely four feet across. Not only was there no place to lie down, he couldn’t even stretch his legs while sitting. A toilet was out of the question; if he had to relieve himself, he’d have to sleep on his own filth.

Faced with these conditions, Lin Jun was more anxious than anyone—he had no intention of living in such squalor. Just then, Fang Nian's voice resounded down the corridor.

"Students, welcome to the Class Three, Senior Year Prison Theme Park! Well? Are you satisfied?"

Hearing Fang Nian’s voice at last, Lin Jun’s fury boiled over.

"Fang, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m warning you: let us go now and I can tell my father not to press charges. But if you persist, you’ll regret it."

"Yeah, let us go! Jun’s dad is the city’s police chief. You really think your little tricks can get you anywhere?"

"That’s right, let us out! What kind of teacher kidnaps his own students? You don’t deserve the title of teacher!"

A thunderous explosion suddenly shook the corridor, sending dust flying and the acrid stench of gunpowder through the air. Instantly, several girls broke down under the pressure, sobbing in fear.

Lin Jun gritted his teeth and asked,

"What happened?"

The K-pop boy replied in a trembling voice,

"Jun... Jun, the ceiling... exploded. I almost got buried alive."

Fang Nian’s laughter rang out.

"So, does anyone still question me?"

A chilling silence fell over the corridor. No one dared speak.

Fang Nian smiled, satisfied.

"Good. Now that you all acknowledge my authority, let’s move on to our first topic of the day: let’s discuss whether you are worthy of being students. Does anyone know why I kidnapped you today? Speak freely—if your answer pleases me, there may even be a reward."

After a long silence, a girl finally spoke.

"Is it because we don’t respect you or the other teachers?"

"Wrong."

Another girl ventured,

"Is it because we don’t study hard enough, dragging down the class average?"

"Wrong."

"Is it because we often pull pranks on the teachers? Like that time we posted that candid photo online?"

"Wrong."

The students confessed to many wrongdoings, even admitting to personal misdeeds, but none gave the answer Fang Nian wanted. His tone grew colder.

"Did none of you notice that among those brought here today, someone is missing?"

The question sent a wave of murmurs through the group, but after some thought, everyone shook their heads.

"No, I checked when we got on the bus—there were twenty-eight of us, not one missing."

"Yeah, I counted twenty-eight too, all present."

"Right, no one missing."

But then a low, calm female voice cut through the discussion.

"You’re wrong. Our class has twenty-nine people. You forgot Xia Ye."

At that moment, silence fell so thoroughly that it felt as if the entire prison had been put on pause—so quiet it was terrifying.