The prison wasn't all about the banters, prisoner making fun of warders and jailers from blocks and behind bars, the baseline hit up or prisoners hitting each other to death on the slightest ill mood moment.

It was all a thing related to the norms for Blaze to draft on a noted telegraph in his mind about how he felt, his thoughts and the environment. He still felt he was back in a prison in just few hours of his stay.

This was his 20th.. 30th ... 40th ...maybe 50th time in a prison. Everyone lost count. He had been in the prison more frequent than an ill housefly solely in love with dirt.

Dust, his hair was well dread and dust was not a thing to reckon with.

He was like a king in there and it was barely long hours to a count.

It was very different from him living outside the walls but at least it wasn't like everywhere else.

He had a guard check up on him some few minutes after eight. His breakfast had been served long before John showed up. Bread and tea, he had frowned at the guard then he gave out a tip.

It was all coded, not too official. He had his people already in the prison.

Soon it was time for sanitation and he was let out with the rest to clean the yard.

There, he had spotted the other guy he got arrested with.

He gave him the long face and the other guy nodded back in reply.

It was a sign that things would be fine.

Blaze held on to the spade he had in his hand and with so much strength, he jerked it at the heap of dry grass pitched at a corner of the yard.

A bearded guy was on his side with a wheel barrow.

He filled up the barrow and he signalled to the guy to push away.

He had it all in his head, the strategy. All he waited for was a confirmation that his account had been credited.

He wiped sweat off his chin. His dark eyes, evil filled, picked up every detail as he focused on the set of men not working.

He frowned and kept on.

He only needed the alert and the right info.

The wheels came around again and he refilled.

He reached his pocket for the wristwatch he had hidden. It had a face made from glass and pure silver.

He kept it and continued working. Not long after, a note was sent to him.

The guard came around pretending to scold him for standing and resting then he left him the paper.

After the guard had left he picked up and he read.

"1,000 Dollars in your account already."

He folded the note and chewed it.

He left the spade and walked around. He spotted a weakling.

The guy was short and big lipped. He had a scar running from the side of his ear to his neck.

He grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it slightly, making the guy grunt.

"What do you want?"

The guy asked rudely, his pants was full already.

"Your tongue", Blaze replied.

He twisted his wrist a bit further and grabbed the guy's mouth.

He created a little attention but it was no one's business. It was only the few who would want to make a show of power that would interfere, but none did till he had the guy face him and made him blow hot air off his nostrils directly on his face.

He got stopped in a minute.

"Hey!"

He dropped the guy, heard him crash into the ground gasping for breath.

Blazed smiled as he whirled around. Now he knew who the new king of the prison was. No! the new king gang.

"I was just trying to... ", he tried to explain when he caught up with the quick feet closing up on him from behind, eating up paces quickly.

He ducked and a man was off the ground as he let his leg out of the way. He tightened his fist as he advanced. He pulled the guy who gave the first 'hey' closer and he slammed his head on the guy's. He felt his kneels sag and let him drop to the ground. His hands on his face, blood surged out from his nose as he grunted in pain.

"Gotcha!"

That came from behind.

He turned, fully distracted. His vision hit a dark line like his head was forced in a veil from behind. He wanted to break free, but was too late. Ropes ran around him and he was brought down to the floor.

A kick was jerked at his head and he got plunged into a thicker darkness. He was gone in a quick flash. He stopped struggling and they knew he had passed out. He was going to be taught a lesson. They felt he was the new prisoner from a rich home, since he was getting the most best of treatment.