Qian awoke to the glow of the rising sun shining through his open window. The cool spring breeze greeted his face as he scanned the horizon. Judging from the height of the sun, he had only a few hours until he needed to arrive at the prison. He could see the dull stone building from his quarters. It stood as a foreboding monument to order among the chaos of the nearby slums. The buildings just outside the steel fence were husks made of rotting wood on cracked foundations. The state of the eastern edge of Abyss city was an unfortunate sight. Qian hoped that the people who lived there would be given better fates in their next lives. The slums perfectly circled the namesake of the city a massive 2-mile-wide hole in the earth.  No one knew if there was a bottom to the pit since nothing had ever returned to the surface. Qian had even heard from warriors who could fly that the abyss seemed to pull you down into it.  

Continuing his morning routine Qian washed his face with a bucket of cold water and put on his robes. He wore red robes with a grey border. The red indicated that he served the empire and the grey denoted him as a second-tier warrior. He had spent most of his life training to reach this position but compared to those a with rich upbringing or talent, Qian was several years behind. At the age of 19 he had filled his core with qi, the energy of a martial artist, and spent the 4 years since then trying to open his meridians, the veins that Qi flows through in the body.  It was only due to his devotion to the nation that he had the honor to serve as an imperial guard.  

Grabbing the thin ordinary blade he had saved up for years to buy, Qian slipped on his shoes and left for the prison. The paved roads were already filled with street vendors setting up displays and cooking food for breakfast. Handing a vendor two copper coins, shaped as flat rings, Qian bought some grilled scorpions on a stick. The food was delicious but did little to sate his hunger. A small boy no older than nine ran past him grabbing something from a nearby stall. As Qian watched the stall’s owner shouted for someone to catch him as a guard in leather armor blocked the kid with the shaft of his spear.  

The boy wore ragged clothes made from grain sacks. He was covered in dirt from head to toe and looked like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Qian offered a silent prayer for the kids next life since it was unlikely he would make it to adulthood in this one. He would undoubtedly be sentenced to work in the mines where he would most likely be executed when he didn’t meet his quota. This made Qian think of the city's unofficial motto,” The emperor's justice is as unforgiving as it is absolute.”  

As Qian made it to the prison, he was greeted by the guards wearing red robes with brown trim. He walked to the center courtyard where the warden was waiting with a line of prisoners naked except for the rope that bound them together. 

“Good morning Qian,” the Warden greeted him with a cheerful smile,” Today we have seven prisoners to throw. Each one of them has plotted against the emperor and attempted to take up arms against justice.” Qian looked the prisoners over. Just like usual he could only sense Qi from a couple of them. He had always wondered what drove people without cultivation or combat skills to try to fight the imperial guard.  

“Is Gyaru ready to send them off?” Qian asked wanting to get this duty over with.  

“You know him, he’s been at the dock for an hour preparing.” The warden chuckled to himself as he sauntered away. The warden was always cheerful no matter what time of day, and Qian had always wondered if it was due to the copious amount of food that filled his round frame. He had been appointed to this position due to his connections and since then had spent most of his times letting his subordinates run the prison. Qian didn’t mind the warden since he wasn’t cruel and let the guards do as they pleased as long as no prisoners escaped.  

Qian grabbed the rope that connected the prisoners and led them towards the back of the prison. The sullen eyes of the prisoners showed no resistance as they walked. Not that the prisoners could resist since they had no doubt been starved for a week as they awaited their departure. As he walked out the back of the prison, Qian saw a thin bald man in brown robes waiting at the end of a long stone dock sticking out over the abyss.  

The man turned when Qian approached and said, “It is a pleasure that fate has brought us together.” 

“It’s good to see you too Gyaru,” Qian responded, “I hope you’re ready because I’d like to train as soon as we’re done with the ritual. “ 

“I know your love for training runs deep so to spare you some time I already prayed for these tortured souls.” Gyaru’s warm smile brightened the morning.  

“Thank you for your kindness, friend.” 

Gyaru turned back to the pit and stated, “It is with dutiful hearts that we send these wayward souls to be judged for their misdeeds. It is our hope that fate may judge them kindly and give them better futures.” As Gyaru spoke, the woman in front began to softly cry. “May these criminals escape the torment of desire in their next life.”  

At the end of the speech Qian kicked the front prisoner off the dock.  As she began to fall the other prisoners were dragged one by one off the ledge as they tried to hold their footing. There wasn’t any sound as they fell; none of the prisoners had the energy left to even whisper a goodbye.