Chapter 2 Special Privileges

The moment I lost consciousness, panic seized my heart. Things were far more complicated than I had imagined. I had thought Du Jiang merely intended to call over classmates and teachers to mock and ridicule, but I never anticipated events would spiral toward another terrifying extreme.

He was out for revenge! He wanted to retaliate against all those who had bullied and humiliated him.

I heard him mention the Ten Tortures—what did that mean? Was he planning to exact violent retribution against the classmates and teachers?

Countless questions crowded my mind. In a haze, my body slowly regained awareness, though my limbs remained numb and immobile. My senses returned, and I could faintly hear movement nearby.

Someone flicked a lighter and lit a cigarette.

"Zheng Yan..."

He called my name—it was Du Jiang! His voice echoed, as if in a vast, empty space, with the sound of water dripping all around.

"Zheng Yan, I know you can hear me now. There are things I need to explain to you..."

"You probably think I've gone mad, but do you know what my four years in university were like, Zheng Yan? Worse than a pig or a dog, worse than death. All thanks to those scum! They deserve to die!"

My suspicions had been correct—Du Jiang was set on pursuing vengeance by his own extreme means.

Honestly, I wanted to dissuade him. There was no need to seek revenge against those people; even if they had humiliated and disgusted him, it wasn’t worth taking such an extreme path. To vent his private fury, he'd risk his own life, his hard-earned property—none of it was necessary, none of it worth the price.

"Zheng Yan, there are things you don't know. Take this broken leg, for example..." Du Jiang’s breath grew heavier as he spoke. "They took me to a shady private clinic to have my wounds dressed. It was little more than a garbage heap, the air thick with filth and flies. The doctor they found was an illiterate hack, and when he bandaged my wound, it was as though he were slaughtering a pig. His filthy hands trampled all over my injury. I could have been a normal person, but now—now I'm an AIDS patient..."

My heart clenched. What did that mean? Disabled? AIDS? What had Du Jiang really been through?

"When luck turns against you, even water will choke you. Do you know how I felt, Zheng Yan? Standing on the rooftop of the hospital, desperate to jump. Every cell in my body was raging. My life was destroyed—I went from a rural student to a complete wreck. It was them! They pushed me step by step into hell. Tell me, Zheng Yan! Should these scum die? Should they reap what they sow?"

I could not fully empathize with Du Jiang. I couldn’t see the twisted fury on his face, but I knew his heart must have been bleeding at this moment. I could not imagine how he had survived.

"Don’t be fooled by their glamorous appearances. The more dazzling they seem, the filthier they are inside. They are even the culprits who caused your father’s death!"

What? My father? The culprits who killed my father? Didn’t my father die in an accident?

---

Du Jiang ultimately didn’t explain the cause. "Alright, Zheng Yan, maybe you still have many questions and uncertainties, but I’ve told you everything you need to know. From now on, the fate of these people is in your hands—whether they live or die, it’s up to you. When you finally step off this cruise ship, all truths will come to light. Good luck, brother..."

Du Jiang finished speaking and left. Silence enveloped the room once more. It was a long time before I recovered, and as my senses returned, I found myself in a dim cabin, slumped on an old, earth-colored sofa. Metal cabinets stood scattered all around, and this was the ship’s engine workshop. The cramped space was chaotic, with wrenches and pliers strewn across the floor.

Du Jiang’s words echoed in my ears. In a single night, I felt as if I were dreaming. What had we all been through? Where were the other classmates and teachers? What was Du Jiang’s real plan? And my father—his murderer?

I picked up a few tools for self-defense and stepped out of the workshop. Outside was a narrow corridor a few meters long, leading to a cabin at the end. On the iron door was a sign: "Kitchen No. 9—Authorized Personnel Only."

No. 9 was a kitchen. I pushed the iron door gently and it opened, revealing a dim orange glow inside. I peeked in and saw that the kitchen was about forty or fifty square meters, with stoves burning on both sides and a massive rectangular worktable in the center. On the marble table, someone was bound.

The man wore a black suit, blue tie, and black-rimmed reading glasses. A black mole sat on his lower left jaw. His body was tightly wrapped in five thick iron chains. He was none other than our homeroom teacher, Cao Baoyang.

Cao Baoyang lay flat, soaked and filthy, both hands and feet bound by black chains, with a red cigarette box hanging around his neck. His mouth was open, eyes closed, apparently unconscious.

Was this Du Jiang’s punishment for Cao Baoyang?

"Mr. Cao, Mr. Cao, wake up! Please wake up!"

I slapped Mr. Cao’s face twice, and he jolted awake, realizing his limbs couldn’t move. He screamed in terror.

"Ah, ah... What is this? Where am I? Where am I?"

"Mr. Cao, it’s me! Zheng Yan!"

He recognized me and broke out in cold sweat. "Zheng Yan, Zheng Yan! How are you here? Where is everyone else? Where’s Du Jiang? What has he done to us?"

I said it would take too long to explain and that I’d first try to free him from the chains.

I knelt and examined the chains beneath the worktable. Five chains, each as thick as a fist, had been welded to the steel floor of the ship. They must have weighed a hundred or two hundred kilograms, the sheer weight far beyond what a normal body could withstand.

I couldn’t break the chains by brute force alone. Unless I found a saw to cut through them quickly.

Mr. Cao complained behind me, "Ow, it’s crushing me! I can’t take it anymore! This Du Jiang is truly insane, doing something so twisted and cruel. He must be tired of living, risking the lives of so many people! Once I get out, I’ll make sure he pays!"

---

I told Mr. Cao not to get agitated, that we couldn’t afford to panic in such circumstances. He needed to stay calm while I searched for a saw to cut through the chains and then look for the others.

"Beep... Beep..."

Just as I was about to stand, two electronic beeps sounded from the red cigarette box around Mr. Cao’s neck. It was a portable speaker, and from it came the raspy voice of a middle-aged man.

"Cao Baoyang, male, 62 years old, from Donghai City, Jiangsu Province, currently Dean at Donghai University, with 32 years of service."

Both Mr. Cao and I jumped at the sudden voice. The red box was inconspicuous, but its sound was piercing and harsh. In the gloomy, closed kitchen, the voice sent chills down my spine.

Mr. Cao shouted at the red box, "Du Jiang! Are you done with your games? Do you realize this is illegal? You’re depriving people of their freedom—you’ll end up in prison! Let me go right now!"

The red box ignored him. The speaker continued, "Teachers are supposed to be a beacon for students, but you play the role of a greedy leech, sucking the hard-earned money from students and parents. You turned from a penniless scholar into a millionaire, from a simple teacher into a cunning villain. You stole money, stole beauty, stole lives. However much you took, today you’ll repay. Five minutes—five minutes to confess your sins."

"Click!"

"Whirr... Whirr... Whirr..."

The red box cut off abruptly, and a series of mechanical noises echoed in my ears, as if some device had started up.

When I looked up, I was stunned once again. The sight before me shattered everything I thought I knew.

The worktable’s top had activated a gigantic exhaust fan, with four circular blades. Each spinning blade bore two gleaming kitchen knives. As the four blades spun at high speed, the knives formed a terrifying vortex of light.

I gasped. This wasn’t an exhaust fan—it was a crazed meat grinder!