Chapter 308
In the kitchen, William Cooper focused intently on slicing beef while Old Harold stirred tofu in a sizzling wok, the metal spatula clinking against the iron pan. With one more dish of shredded potatoes, the meal would be complete. Since those women had left last time, the year had flown by, and they hadn't returned.
William knew the ten dollars he'd secretly slipped out had vanished without a trace.
But he wasn't discouraged. If one attempt failed, he'd try again. Sooner or later, an opportunity would come. He had to escape.
This godforsaken place was hell on earth. Even during the New Year, there was no rest. The so-called "festive feast" was just a few paper-thin slices of meat in the pot—so meager you could barely see them, let alone taste them.
He'd been here over half a year. Li Xiaozhu, who arrived with him, had long since disappeared. The coal mine was a devouring beast, swallowing men whole. The last cave-in had killed several, but who cared? Hank kept bringing in fresh bodies.
This was a living nightmare—no escape, no survival.
If not for Hank, William would've died long ago. But what difference did it make now? He missed his brother and sister-in-law, his three nieces and nephews, and most of all, Luna—how was she faring in the provincial capital?
Regret gnawed at him. He'd been too naive, too greedy, and had fallen for the trap. Everyone here had been tricked. No one ever escaped. Rumor had it someone had once fled, but the coward hadn't even dared report to the police, slinking home like a beaten dog.
After that, security tightened. No one got out.
"Will! Deliver the food!" Old Harold's voice snapped him from his thoughts.
The old man's bad leg made carrying trays risky. William responded, arranging the tofu, shredded potatoes, sliced beef, and roasted chicken neatly on a platter.
"Quick in and out," Harold muttered under his breath. "Left you some food under the stove."
They'd survived this long by relying on each other. Harold had endured five years here, clinging to thoughts of his wife and child. William's arrival had given him some solace.
A guard barked impatiently, "Quit dawdling! Boss gets angry, you'll regret it!"
William forced a smile. "Lead the way, sir. The tray's heavy, but I'll keep up."
His fingers curled around his last five dollars. This was his final chance.
Inside the main building, the air was thick with perfume, liquor, and rich food—a world apart from the squalor outside, where men lived worse than animals while others drowned in decadence.
William kept his head down but scanned the room. The woman from last time was still there, perched beside the boss, her blouse gaping to reveal pale cleavage that seemed to hypnotize the man.
"Boss, the food is served," William said respectfully.
The boss barely glanced at him. "Where's the fruit? Bring bananas and oranges."
As William turned to leave, a voice stopped him.
"Wait!" It was Sally.
His body tensed. Was she about to expose him? His grip tightened on the tray's edge—where a sharpened wooden chopstick lay hidden. If it came to it, he'd go down fighting.
"Just plain fruit is boring," Sally purred, draping herself over the boss. "Have him make a fruit platter."
The boss pinched her waist. "Always full of ideas." He jerked his chin at William. "You heard her. Make it fancy."
William feigned hesitation. "Boss, we country folk don't know how..."
The room erupted in laughter.
The boss rubbed his bald head, grinning. "My cook's a bumpkin. Doesn't know your city tricks."
Sally swayed to her feet. "Then I'll teach him." She winked at William. "Don't worry, little brother. I won't bite."
Amid the jeers, William "nervously" backed away.
Sally followed him out toward the kitchen.
This time, no one trailed behind.