Ron put down the half of the rat on his lips and used his brain to imagine the deliciousness of this rare meat as much as he could.

It was the seventh day of his journey, and Ron quickly adapted to the era with his desire to survive, from being so frightened that he was beaten by his guards from time to time to now being able to swallow gray rats covered in fleas and germs without changing his face.

The original owner of the body that Ron took over belonged to the once powerful elite of the Calradia Empire, but due to the stupidity of the last emperor in the war, the empire fell apart into three parts that were hostile to each other, and Ron's family also declined with the change of power, leaving nothing but empty titles of nobility.

The original owner was particularly resolute in the face of this situation, and transferred his title of nobility to a wealthy merchant in a "reasonable and fair" way, and used the money in exchange to buy horses and armor to join the imperial army, hoping to win military merit.

It's a pity that the Northern Empire where Ron is located, its upper power structure is all the senate of the original Calradia Empire, and they are engaged in internal power struggles, but it is too difficult for them to mobilize troops to fight against the former robes and foreign enemies.

During a skirmish with the Stegians, the barbarians entrenched in the northern part of the continent, the officers were afraid of the battle cry of these resolute warriors who grew up in the mountains and snowfields, and actually took the initiative to abandon the legionnaires who were fighting desperately.

And Ron is the direct victim of this cowardly act.

"I'm going to escape, and the only fate left in the prisoner of war dungeon is death."

With this thought firmly in his mind, Ron crossed his fingers to estimate the time the guards patrolled once.

As he counted the tenth minute, the sound of leather boots rubbing against the ground was heard in the dim and damp dungeon, and heavily armed Stedgian soldiers walked through the middle of the cells on either side, shaking their heads seemingly randomly, but in fact paying vicious attention to the small movements of each captive.

Soon a Sturgia soldier sensed the preparations for an escape from prison, and as a matter of course, the man was beaten out of his cell and then moved to his head and body with a heavy axe in front of all the prisoners of war.

The Sturgians were warning Ron that they were captives - that they couldn't escape from this prison and that there was no need for this suicidal struggle.

The warm blood sprayed all over the cell, and some people couldn't stand the torture of hunger, and they tried to poke their heads out of the cracks in the stakes of the cell, and the "nutrition" that snaked all the way was a life-saving delicacy for him.

The Stegian soldier picked up the recently dead prisoner of war, walked past the captive with a contemptuous smile, and deliberately rubbed his boots, which had stepped on horse manure, into the pool of blood.

"If I don't escape, I'll end up with them."

Whether he lost his dignity as a human being and was treated like an animal, or was killed at will, Ron would never allow himself to fall to that point.

What's more, the current Calradia continent is full of heroes, every day the old class is gone, the new upstarts with heavy troops appear on the stage, and every ambitious careerist gathers in this gladiatorial arena of life and death, iron and blood, fame and fortune, wanting to step on the skulls of countless princes and nobles to obtain the crown of the victor.

So, why can't the person who won the crown be himself?

The past does not forget the teacher of the future, someone can fight all the way from a beggar to become the emperor who dominates the world, so why can't he himself? Can you be worse off than someone else who started a bowl?

The footsteps of the guards faded away, and there was finally a faint sound in the grave where dozens of living people were buried.

"It's up to you whether you can survive or not."

Ron looked at his calloused palms from years of training, and then fixed his eyes on the iron lock in front of the cell door.

Originally, even if Ron had shown great prowess on the battlefield and could charge through the Sturgian line with his comrades' cavalry, he would not have suddenly learned the same "craft" as the scum in the alleys.

But now it's different.

【Lock】

[It's a simple lock, and it's more symbolic than it actually works]

[Requires 25 points of "Rogue Habit" to pry open]

It stands to reason that Ron's aristocratic background has nothing to do with the skill of hooliganism, but the actual situation is different, in order to buy himself better equipment to survive on the battlefield, Ron, like many of the lower officers of the Empire, is engaged in smuggling goods from the army.

However, the cruel reality gave Ron a truth - no matter how good the protection is, it can't withstand a command error, just like a certain micro-manipulation master once held an army of millions armed to the teeth, and in the end he didn't flee in a hurry and wrote a diary to throw off the pot.

Thanks to the smuggling practices of his former owner, Ron now has 23 rogue habits, and is only two points away from trying to pick the locks that bind his fate.

As for the last two of the poor hooligan habits, Ron had already figured out where to get them.

"You, come over to me!" Ron squeezed his eyebrows, the muscles of his face rolling, and instead of his fists, he shouted with formidable force.

Although Ron had been beaten several times by the guards and lost face, his sturdy physique and former status as a low-ranking officer could easily bluff the frightened captives in the same cell as him.

"My lord, may I ask what is the matter?" The trembling captive leaned in, and he guessed that Ron was trying to spill the resentment he had accumulated from the guards on him.

Ron didn't say it directly, but raised the half of the big gray mouse in his hand, lowered his voice and said, "Swallow it for me." ”

The rat itself often goes back and forth in places full of excrement and water, and the putrid smell accumulated on its body, combined with the stench of blood in its internal organs, is indeed a kind of torture to force a rational person to eat.

The captive who was threatened by Ron trembled his lips, and tears actually hung on his dark face, but under Ron's constant coercion, he finally took the remaining half of the dead rat, closed his eyes and swallowed the dead rat as if he was resigned to his fate.

[Rogue Habit increased to 24]

[Rogue Habit increased to 25]

[You have gained the trait of "Benevolence"]

Benevolent?

Ron was a little confused? What did you just do and be kind? Could it be the kind of kindness of a loving father, Namgle?

"I didn't notice you were this before." In the depths of the cell, someone spoke softly, "I thought you were going to keep that dead rat for yourself, just like you used to steal my place." ”

Ron searched for the past, and his mind kept retrieving memories of this man—

It was so strong, so strong that even the Imperial horses, known for their physical strength, could not afford a humanoid beast in full armor.

"Carl? You've been motionless all these days, and I thought you were gone. Recalling the previous-for-tat habits between the two, Ron expressed his greetings to Carl in a very "Ron" way.

Carl was a commoner who began his career as a recruit in simple armor and slowly accumulated his exploits to become a proud legionnaire of the Empire, and was about to be awarded the reward of an officer.

But with the recommendation of the wealthy merchant who had just become a nobleman, Ron easily snatched the position from Carl.

"Sometimes the dead are more useful than the living." Karl found a dagger out of nowhere, he had been obedient and motionless all these days just to avoid attracting the attention of the guards, "What was found in the cell should belong to someone who had the same idea as us before, but it seems that he didn't succeed." ”

"If you have a way to open that damn door, do it." Karl winked and stepped forward to look at Ron.

There were no more words, and when life and death were at stake, the two put aside their old prejudices and cooperated very tacitly.

With the help of Karl's wide body as a cover, Ron put his hand on the lock, obviously without any relevant experience, but at this moment, Ron's hands were more and more familiar with the structure of the lock, as if he had practiced it countless times in private.

"Not bad." Carl couldn't help but let out a heartfelt admiration when he saw the rapid progress on Ron's side, and he almost thought that Ron had specialized in this profession before joining the Imperial Army.

I was also a little more confident that I would be able to get out of danger.

As the system suggests, the complexity of the lock is not high, and even in this era of obscurantism, it is extremely primitive. The guards did not hope that the iron locks would be able to bind a group of soldiers who had once been able to bathe blood on the battlefield, hunger, exhaustion, and inner despair were the best cages for prisoners.

Time passed, and by the time Ron estimated that five minutes had passed, the lock-picking process was almost halfway complete, and everyone who had witnessed Ron's gratifying progress was overjoyed.

This terrible life as a prisoner is finally coming to an end!

Regardless of whether the next defense of the prison is dead or alive, they don't care anymore, it is better to say that if they can't successfully escape from the prison, it is better to die happily.

"I'll tell you, the new girl in the tavern is really good."

"You're not afraid of getting sick, and you didn't see that thing rotting a few days ago, and you dare to go?"

"Idle is idle......"

The only staircase leading to the ground in the underground prison was the intermittent sound of small talk, which might seem ridiculous just listening to the content, but this ridiculous chatter was a deadly message for the captives at this moment.

"Dry, dry, dry! It's just that when it counts! Karl's eyes looked like he was about to breathe fire, and he stared at the corner of the stairs, eager to eat the two guards alive the moment they appeared.

The footsteps are getting closer,

one-step

Two steps,

Three steps,

The fledgling hopes of the captives were dying with the sound of the urging footsteps—Ron hadn't been able to open the lock yet!

"I can open it! I can open it! I can definitely open this lock! ”

"Just need, a little more time!"

Ron calmed down and forced his hands that were shaking with nervousness.

However, when it came to this most critical link, he suddenly stopped what he was doing, and instead raised his head and looked at the two guards who had just come into view.

"Help, murder, murder! They're going to kill! ”

He raised his hand and pointed at the two men in the opposite cell.