"Sergeant Winston!" Aron said, his gaze warm despite the situation. "Do you perhaps remember...?"

"Prisoner number 13, Aron Lumiere," the reading guard clarified, referencing the information on the inmate list. At that moment, Winston's expression darkened briefly.

"Oh! Of course you remember. How many of your men did I kill back in the days of your glorious coliseum?" the brown-haired youth said, still smiling warmly and speaking with kindness in his voice. "Don't you want to see me in the arena again? Perhaps seek revenge for last time? You could even kill me yourself!" he added, his tone enthusiastic, starkly contrasting the content of his message.

Wanqian was surprised to discover this. Aron seemed fragile, to say the least, but then he remembered part of his conversation with Lucia the night before. "...He's a submissive and conformist fool, but... His charisma is undeniable, and they say his potential with Qi manipulation is that of a prodigy."

But it wasn't just that; from what little he had heard of him, coupled with his friendly demeanor, he was most impressed by hearing him casually speak of having killed with his own hands. Although, upon further thought, he likely hadn't had much choice.

"Perhaps I could... kill you right now, Aron Lumiere," Winston said, approaching him.

"Perhaps you could? Right, Sergeant?" Aron commented, but the Sergeant simply walked past him. Finally, Winston stood in front of the six present prisoners and closed his eyes.

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"The old man... No!" he exclaimed with euphoric delight upon seeing the tension his words created in the recipients. "The brave Aron Lumiere... No!" he continued, looking at the young man, feigning sorrow for not choosing him. "The Fengnian worm... No!" he went on with his performance, looking at Wanqian with almost bulging eyes. "So much excitement! We're halfway there! Three remain! Who will be the lucky sacrifice?" he exclaimed again, laughing. "The beautiful Miss Giovanni... No!" This time he approached Lucia and whispered something to her that Wanqian couldn't quite make out, but from the tone, he assumed it was of an obscene nature. "Two participants remain!" He then approached Melina, who was on the verge of a breakdown. Her legs were trembling, and tears were welling in her eyes, making it hard for her to suppress her sobbing. He took her by the arms and lifted her as high as he could. The girl grimaced in horror. "The distinguished Miss with the number 21... You are the chosen one," he said before giving her a grotesque lick on the cheek and letting her go. The girl fell to her knees, paralyzed, in complete shock. "You have two days to hone your skill and provide us with training worthy of the debut of our program. Won't it be a glorious moment, young inmate Aron?" he asked, looking at the young man with the cruelest smile in the world. For the first time that day, Aron seemed genuinely affected. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I must return to my duties," he said, adding his usual laughter. "Oh! Grant, you can take your dead man now. I want prisoner number 21 ready for her first... and last training in two days. Do you hear me?" he concluded with a perverse and disdainful look toward the prison director, gesturing for his entourage to follow him, and proceeded to walk away slowly. He walked, stroking his beard and licking his lips. When he was near the exit, he heard his name in the distance, from deep within the prison.

"Winston! Go and apologize to the family of the soldier you're going to bring! He'll die before laying a hand on Melina!" It was Aron, still in handcuffs. The Sergeant caught a glimpse of the young prisoner's conviction-filled gaze before the guards took him back to his cell.