Leon POV

"Is there any other stuff other than this meat bar?" I asked as we got to the cafeteria

"You can buy it from the shop." Sasha answered

John sat at a different section for centaurs, and he was incredibly offended when I asked if he eats horse food. Which was funny since I already knew that he'd say no, but he did say he could if it was desperate. As for the food, it wasn't great, at least we got orange juice, it was warm though, so it's not ideal. Sasha then told me that I was on my own for the afternoon as she had stuff to do, and I should start getting familiar with my environment for now since I'll be here for a while, even if I plan on escaping.

Talking about escaping doesn't seem to get you in much trouble, I've seen a couple of newbies do it, people just either scoff at it or ignore it entirely, with the occasional guards glaring at you a bit, but nothing was realistically done. After finishing my meal, I decided to take a stroll. Lunchtime in the Field of Punishment was one of the few times we got to relax a bit...well, technically, you can relax any time you want, but people tend to want to reduce their sentencing, and I needed to clear my head.

As I walked, I started to notice the different groups of prisoners around. There were three main categories, as John had explained to me earlier. I was classified as a 'safe' prisoner, the highest category, which meant I wasn’t considered a serious threat. I could move around more freely and wasn’t under as much scrutiny. But I was still considered a threat regardless.

The category below mine consisted of prisoners who had committed crimes that were serious, but not violent. These people had made some bad choices, but nothing that put others in danger. They had more restrictions and were watched closely. They were considered as 'risk'. The lowest category was the 'dangerous' prisoners, those who had committed violent or heinous acts. These were the ones everyone avoided. They were kept under the tightest security, and are condemned to the worst parts of the Field of Punishment.

Apparently, there was a way to get promoted out of this place, even to a prison on the border of Elysium and Asphodel. Those who committed sins for genuinely good reasons are sentenced there, and if I want to be promoted there, I would have to earn the favor of a god and could be recommended for a transfer. But that was a rare thing. You had to prove yourself and get noticed by a god, which sounded nearly impossible for me.

I needed a bit of intel, so I figured that I could buy it from the shop, and I could. I asked for anything relating to any communities filled with the living on the outside, and the intel cost about 5 coins, I paid it and received a pamphlet in return. These were groups of people who had completed their sentences and chose to remain down here. They had been here so long that they no longer wanted to return to their original worlds, knowing that they no longer had a place in it.

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It wasn’t much, but it was something. The thought of finding one of these communities and laying low for a while had a certain appeal...because I could use some resources to get by in the underworld, and what I had to do to reach the end. I asked the shop about it, but all they had were theories of what the end is and where it is, it was expensive and I know that the theories may contain some truths, but I need to save some money for now, as there could be other things I need and they could be better than some paper of theories of what it may be.

Hopefully, I can exploit the therapist for some free information for now.

"Hey, are there any therapy sessions open right now?" I asked the shopkeeper

"Oh yeah, it's in the next 20 minutes." the shopkeeper answered

"Sure, I'll take that one."

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Walking into the therapy room, I wasn't sure what to expect, but I wasn't expecting this. Sitting on a small cushioned chair was a cute, fluffy cat, its fur pristine white with a few black spots. It looked up at me with wide, curious eyes, and then...of course...it spoke.

"Hello there! Ready to start our session?" it asked, "Leonardo Silver, right? I'm Viper Furocious."

I just stared for a moment before letting out a sigh and facepalming.

"A talking cat... Seriously?"

"What do you mean by that?" it responded as I laid on the bench thing.

"Nevermind, we can start."

"Alright, so you just tell me whatever and I'll listen."

"That's it?"

"Of course, how did you think this was going to work?"

"Isn't a therapist supposed to, I don't know, offer advice? Or at least ask questions that aren't totally obvious?"

"Are you saying I'm unqualified because I'm a cat? That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think?"

"I was just asking."

"Sounds like you're assuming all cats are unqualified. That's a pretty broad and unfair assumption. You know, some might even call that...racist."

"Racist? Against cats?"

"Speciesist, actually. But the point stands."

"Alright, where's your qualification then?"

"I don't have one."

"What? Then how are you a therapist?"

"I'm a cute cat, being in my presence would make anyone feel better."

"How long is this session?"

"An hour minimum if you want to reduce your sentence."

"What did you do to end up here? You're alive."

"Oh, so I accidentally killed this one dog that happened to be a son of Zeus, and here I am."

"Did you say dog? Like a human with dog ears or...dog dog."

"A dog that is the son of Zeus...how hard is that for you to understand?"

"What did the dog do to you?"

"He attacked and almost killed my employees, so I took my revenge, Zeus then sent some angels to bring me down here."

"And Hera still hasn't divorced him?"

"Nope, she's a very faithful, but very stupid woman."