Inside this square prison fortress, there are seven floors, each lined with densely packed, neatly arranged cells.

One by one, the newly opened alloy doors revealed dimly lit cells, as if each one held a wild beast.

Brian Brooks stood inside the doorway, and it seemed that if he just took this step forward, he would be walking toward an unknown life.

In the vast prison, a broadcast suddenly sounded from somewhere, featuring a pleasant female voice: “It is now seven o’clock in the morning, breakfast time. All inmates, please line up in order and proceed to the dining hall for your meal.”

The voice echoed throughout the prison fortress, but Brian Brooks continued to stare at the threshold before him.

It seemed that as long as he stepped out, everything would be different.

In fact, he felt that he had already changed from a certain moment onward.

When did it start?

Perhaps... it was when he thought he only had two and a half hours left to live, so he went and did the things he most wanted to do but never dared before.

He had even reported his own biological father—what else was there to be afraid of?

He stepped out of the cell.

But in the next moment, he froze.

He saw that in the not-so-spacious corridor outside, there was a prisoner standing in front of every cell door: an old man hunched over looked at him, and in the man’s right eye socket was a mechanical eye glowing with a faint red light. The entire right eye socket was mechanical, with metal components extending all the way to the right temple.

The mechanical eye didn’t look delicate; in fact, it was rather rough, and the focus inside the eye kept shifting.

It seemed the man was analyzing the details on him.

Just like how he used his memory to analyze others.

A burly middle-aged prisoner had a right arm made entirely of machinery. As the man flexed his fingers, Brian Brooks could hear the metallic sound of mechanical parts turning as the hand opened and closed.

That thick metal arm was like knotted steel muscles—tough and aggressive.

In this entire prison fortress, it turned out that half the people had mechanical limbs.

Mechanical civilization?

These four words popped into Brian Brooks’s mind.

Before he could think further, he saw the burly prisoner in the neighboring cell grin at him: “Hey, new guy, don’t eat too much breakfast, or you’ll look terrible when you throw up.”

As soon as he finished speaking, laughter erupted in the corridor: “Heard twelve new people arrived last night. Looks like we’ll have some fun today.”

“This kid doesn’t have any mechanical limbs at all. Looks like he doesn’t have any connections outside either.”

When he heard the words “new guy,” Brian Brooks was startled. He thought the other man knew he had just crossed over from Earth.

But he quickly realized that “new guy” probably just meant he was new to the prison, and the others didn’t know he was from Earth.

Moreover, Brian Brooks frowned in thought. The so-called “fun” the others mentioned would probably be a disaster for him.

He forced himself to suppress his inner restlessness and fear. As an ordinary high school junior facing such a sudden and brutal change, the only thing Brian Brooks could do was force himself not to show any sign of abnormality.

Suddenly, a teenager on the fourth-floor corridor across from him lost control: “What is this place! I want to go home! I don’t want to stay in this hellhole—who are you people!? I am Peter Grant, my dad is the chairman of Yongli Group in Luocheng, stay away from me!”

As he spoke, the teenager started running wildly down the corridor.

No one else moved; they just stood in place watching the commotion, still maintaining their lines.

Someone wondered aloud, “Where is Luocheng?”

Suddenly, Brian Brooks heard a buzzing sound above his head. He looked up and saw, to his shock, that four droplet-shaped drones were detaching from the high, deep ceiling and beginning to descend.

Brian Brooks’s gaze lingered on the ceiling, where eighteen Gatling-like metal storm turrets were neatly “embedded,” hanging upside down.

As the panicked teenager ran, nine of the metal storm turrets began to rotate!

“Please stop moving,” a female voice sounded from the drones. “This is a final warning. Please stop moving.”

Immediately after, a broadcast echoed through the prison fortress: “All inmates, please remain where you are.”

In just over ten seconds, the four drones had cornered the teenager in a section of the corridor, each drone’s gun barrel aimed directly at him.

At the same time, gates opened below the prison fortress, and nine robots holding cold, black firearms rushed in at full speed.

The teenager collapsed in terror, while Brian Brooks watched everything coldly.

The boy’s actions were a bit extreme, but they helped Brian Brooks learn a lot.

Machine guns, drones, robots, mechanical limbs—countless pieces of information flooded into his mind all at once.

But what surprised Brian Brooks the most was... he suddenly realized: he was not the only one who had come here from Earth.

He wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last.

Chapter 5: Transcendent Status

Brian Brooks had once wondered if anyone else would have a countdown appear on their arm.

Now it seemed his guess had finally come true.

How many travelers were there? Hundreds? Thousands?