Qin was fourteen years old. He had blonde hair that complemented his icy purple eyes well. He wore an enormous shirt that exposed his collar bone as well as a deep scar that ran from his shoulder all the way down to his lower abdomen.

Gritting his teeth, he glared at the guards, closing his fists. “Shut up! Stop complaining, bastard! If you really wanted to go, then go! Oh, wait! Each and every one of you are scared of the imbecile of a noble!”

The guard lifted his fist and hit Qin in response to his haughty statement. Qin didn’t fight back, instead, his glare together with his rage and resentment seemed to grow stronger

Without an ounce of pity, he continued the beating, but in the end, despite the numerous wounds Qin had attained, the guard became fatigued before he faltered in any way.

To avoid appearing weak, the guard spat on Qin before leaving.

After a while, Noah heard a weak murmur coming from the cell next to him, “Hey… you still there?”

Not expecting Qin to say anything to him afterward the seemingly brutal beating, he hesitantly replied, “Yeah, why?”

“Wow, you’re still talking to me, usually the people that I talked to would ignore me after something similar to this would happen.”

“I don’t mind… but I do have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you reply that way towards him? If you had just nodded your head, then you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

"Why, you ask?" Qin glanced up and peered at the window of his cell. “Well… it’s for something I wish not to relinquish, my freedom.”

“Why are you saying that when we’re already slaves? And that word, freedom, is nothing more than an excuse people use as a false hope on evading the harsh truth of reality."

Noah pondered, recalling something he had read long before he was adopted; it was a narrative about a war in a fight for independence; he hadn't given it much thought at the time, but now he questioned it. What is ‘freedom’? Was the life I lived, in which many had to die for, ‘freedom’? If it was, then I don’t think it was worth it… from the earliest I could remember, my life was filled with struggle, despair, and fear over whether I'd live another day. I lost everyone I cared about before I was adopted, and even after, I still lost everything. The only thing the term ‘freedom’ gave to us was nothing but wishful thinking, and in the end, it all stayed the same. The smart, the struggler, and the strong will attain freedom, and the weak will have nothing but oppression.
 
“The life you had to live through must’ve been tough, considering you have this opinion at such a young age. But I guess you could be right… this could all just be wishful thinking people use as an escape from life. But… did you ever want to know my name?”

Noah stayed silent.

"It’s Qin Zi You, my last name signifying freedom, so even if those people can bind me, beat me, or even take away everything from me. They can never take away one thing that every human being possesses, and that is their mentality… That’s why no one will ever take my freedom mentality; it will always remain within me."

“That still doesn’t change my opinion.”

“How hard is it to get this in your head? Even if it was wishful thinking, it brought hope to countless people, to those who had everything taken away by someone, they would have this concept called 'freedom' that would allow them to fight and succeed.”

“So you’re telling them to live a lie?”

“Some may call it a lie, but others call it hope.”

Afterward, neither said a word, both wondering what the other had gone through to reach such a judgment. Especially Qin, who never expected to encounter a child his age who has a unique perspective on the term ‘freedom’.

Later, at around 7 a.m., the man Noah encountered in front of the prison cell returned to him, just as he had promised. He entered the cell after unlocking the door. "Stand up," the guy ordered, and Noah complied.

After Noah’s shackles were unfastened, they were replaced by iron shackles that bound his hands together. A chain protruded from it, which the guy used to pull Noah out of the jail.

To Noah's right, there was a series of cells, most of which were mostly unoccupied except for the ones used by just Noah and Qin. Noah's cell was second-to-last in the corridor, with Qin's cell to its right and the third-to-last.

As they continued down the corridor, Noah cast a glimpse in the direction of Qin's cell, but he was no longer there. But what he saw startled him… it was a room with crimson liquid splattered all over the walls and floor, it didn't appear dry, therefore it had to have happened recently, if not a while ago.

A guard farther down the hallway, behind a desk located on the corner that was embedded in the wall, stated, “Warden, seems like Qin was brought to the pit injured.”

The warden or the man came to a halt and sighed, “Again…? When will those idiots stop doing that…?” He looked back at Noah, adding, “Oh yeah, I’m the warden of this place-”

The guard interrupted him, saying, “Didn’t the boss say to stop treating the slaves so nicely?”

“Exchanging names is essential, you know?”

“I could tell on you to the boss you know?”

In a short period of time, the warden’s aura suddenly changed to something terrifying… like some sort of a demon.

It startled the guard as well as made him say, “Alright, alright, I won’t tell.”

The warden turned back, and happily said, “Call me warden, alright?”

Noah awkwardly replied, “Okay…”

They continued to walk, and the warden asked Noah some questions. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Oh… it’s Noah.”

“Noah, huh, then how old are you?”

“Um… I’m ten years old, why?”

“It’s nothing really, I was just wondering as to how you met Herod, and why you were brought to this place.”

“It’s just that when I wandered around the red-light district, I came across him.”

When the warden heard that, he stayed silent for a moment, his queries ceased, and he also fiddled with his words. "O-oh... alright." After, they both continued to walk, neither of them saying anything anymore.

Once they were beyond earshot to anyone, the warden started to change. He had a somewhat sardonic demeanor and abruptly stopped walking. He turned to face Noah and crouched down to his level. He continued by tugging on the chain and whispering straight into Noah's ear. “Boy… answer me honestly, were you in the entrance at the red-light district at twelve a.m. that day…?”

How did he know...? – Noah wondered. Could it be that he's the man that day... His terrified expression alone answered the warden's suspicion, but it was further bolstered when he said, “T-the slaveholder…”

“Ding. Dong. Nice guess.”