Ethan walked swiftly toward the Warden's office, the silence in the hallways now an active threat. He reached the door and found it unlocked, just as he expected.

Inside, the office looked stripped down. The personal touches were gone, and the space felt vacant, as if it had been emptied of all traces of Director Hayes very recently.

Ethan didn't bother searching further. He walked to the center of the room and sat down in the high-backed director's chair, his orange jumpsuit contrasting sharply with the polished wood of the desk. He did nothing but wait.

Three hours passed. Then four. Then six.

Just as the sun began to set, the sounds of heavy, coordinated movement finally broke the unnatural calm of the block. A middle-aged man in an impeccable suit and a furious expression strode into the office. Behind him, former Warden Hayes walked with her head bowed, her jaw visibly clenched.

The new director's eyes immediately fell upon Ethan sitting casually in his chair. The man roared with fury.

"What in the hell are you waiting for?! Get him out of my chair, now!" he screamed at the guards who had entered with him.

The guards hesitated, their eyes darting between their furious new boss and the calm man in the orange suit. They knew Ethan's reputation, his strength, and the cost of engaging him. Unless the order was to kill him, they didn't want the fight.

"What are you waiting for?! Remove him!"

Left with no choice, two guards moved reluctantly toward Ethan. Ethan did not appear to resist; he simply stared fixedly at the new director, noting the quick, smug smile that formed on the man's face. Ethan instantly understood the trap: Brown was trying to provoke him into resisting arrest so the guards would have an excuse to execute him.

Ethan decided against it. He smoothly stood up and moved a step aside. The two guards stopped, exchanging relieved glances.

The new director laughed, a forced, grating sound. "I thought you would have more courage, young man. A pleasure. I will be your host for the remainder of your stay. You may call me Director Brown." The sarcasm was thick, clearly intended to provoke.

"By the way," Brown continued, savoring the moment. "I heard that a prison convoy was attacked earlier today. What a pity, what a pity..."

At the mention of the convoy, Ethan's mind froze. Jason was competent, but he couldn't possibly stand against a full-scale ambush alone. Brown's taunt worked perfectly.

Ethan's gaze snapped to Brown, and his eyes instantly turned blood red. The moment for calculation was over.

He lunged.

The nearest guards instinctively moved to restrain him, but Ethan was a blur. He dodged the clumsy tackle of the first guard and delivered a single, focused strike to the back of the second guard's neck, dropping him instantly.

Director Brown's surprise was replaced by triumphant rage. "Kill him! Kill him now!" he shrieked, assuming Ethan had fallen directly into the execution trap. He was surprised the arrogant bastard was even alive—by all rights, he should have been cut to pieces by his prison mates hours ago.

The guards raised their weapons, still looking doubtful.

"If you raise your weapons, I will consider you my enemies," Ethan warned, his voice dangerously low. "You don't want that."

Director Brown bellowed with laughter, hysteria bubbling in his voice. "Those are big words for a man who is already dead! Fire! Or you will face charges for collusion!"

The guards raised their rifles. Ethan reacted faster than thought. His [Celestial Qi Resonance Scan] blared like a siren, indicating multiple threats locked onto him. He launched himself toward the floor, snatching the rifle from one of the downed guards. He rolled behind the massive desk, flipping it for immediate cover, and opened fire.

The office erupted in a torrent of gunfire. Ethan fired with chilling precision, targeting non-vital points: knees, shoulders, and wrists. The guards screamed, dropping their weapons and clutching shattered limbs. Hayes was immediately flat on the ground, desperately seeking cover.

Director Brown, however, simply screamed, his face turning purple with terror and shock.

Ethan rose slightly from behind the overturned desk and snapped his attention to the Director. "You scream like a whore. Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you."

The Director continued his hysterical screaming, demanding help, shouting about a terrorist attack. Ethan calmly fired a shot that deliberately impacted the wall beside Brown's head.

The Director instantly went silent, dropping to the floor and trembling uncontrollably.

Ethan laughed, a rough, dark sound. "There he is. Our magnificent new Director. I think that chair is far too big for you, you son of a bitch."

Director Brown began screaming again, this time detailing the threats. "You'll never get out of here alive! The entire army! The police! They'll hunt you down until death! You are screwed! Really screwed!"

Ethan chuckled, taking aim, and deliberately shot Brown in the thigh.

"You have no idea how screwed I am," Ethan said, the pain making Brown howl. "And I'm very scared. If you scare me more, another shot might slip out."

And with that, Ethan fired again, missing Brown's other leg by a hair's breadth.

From her place on the floor, hidden behind a cabinet, Hayes screamed, her voice cracking with terror. "Ethan, you're insane! What the hell did you do?! This isn't funny anymore! You just assaulted a federal prison, neutralized the Director and the prison guards—these are war crimes! They will execute you! You won't get out of this alive! You have to flee the United States and never return! Go, run! What are you waiting for? Why are you still here?"

Ethan calmly stepped over the groaning body of a guard and looked down at her. "Calm down, Director. This is just beginning. I have enough to fight them and walk away unscathed."

Hayes just covered her face with her hands in sorrow, wondering how she had gotten herself involved in this monumental, insane mess.

"Lend me your cell phone," Ethan instructed her. "I need to make a couple of calls."

Before she could respond, a cell phone—presumably the one she used privately—began to ring insistently from her coat pocket. Ethan retrieved it and looked at the screen. The number was unrecognizable, but he knew the timing.

He give the phone to Hayes who answered instantly. "Hello?"

It was Miller's voice on the other end, strained but triumphant. "We made it,a We successfully reached Oakwood State Prison. We were ambushed, just like you said. The eight escort vehicles fled, leaving us alone. If the old man hadn't arrived in time, we wouldn't have made it."

"Good work, Miller," Hayes said, his voice now devoid of anger and ringing with authority. "Start phase two."

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