Viktor Ivanov, known as Viktor 'the Bear' Ivanov, is the leader of the Wild Panthers gang, a gang of black people in Moroznaya Bashnya.
His nickname was given not only because he had the strength of a bear or could take down a bear, but also for his raw, brutal force of beating anyone if they dared to enter his territory, or simply, act racist toward him or his fellow gang members.
Rumors say that he once beat a guard to death for mistreating one of his gang members because of their skin color. The guard was never found again, and Viktor was never caught since there was no evidence linking him to the crime.
For this reason, the Warden couldn't help but increase security and keep an eye on him as one of the most dangerous prisoners in Moroznaya Bashnya.
And standing in front of Viktor now is none other than Isaak Semenov, the Sinner of The Empire.
"So what do you think about my offer?"
Under the dim light of the sun covered by heavy clouds in the prison yard, the young man stood in front of the bleachers where Viktor sat with his gang members, glaring directly at him with a smirk playing on his lips.
Behind him, dozens of prisoners wandered aimlessly around the yard like the undead, their eyes hollow and devoid of life as they just awaited for their incoming death. However, the young man in front of him does not have that expression; instead, his face was determined, unwilling to give up just yet.
"Viktor 'the Bear' Ivanov?"
"…"
Viktor slowly rose from the bleachers and walked down, coming face to face with Isaak. A huge black man, maybe even bigger than the Warden, his muscular frame straining against the fabric of his faint orange shirt, making his muscles visible to anyone close enough.
But in front of a man like that, Isaak remained still, his smile unwavering. He looked directly into Viktor's brown eyes, as if trying to figure out what the black man was thinking.
Viktor glanced up above the high walls to observe the guards on the watchtowers. Some were chatting while others were mugging around, despite the Warden's numerous reminders to take their duties seriously. Only a few seemed genuinely focused on monitoring the yard.
After ensuring that no guards were watching them, Viktor put his hands in his pockets and began, his voice low and aloof.
"You got some goods?"
"Goods?" Isaak repeated.
"You dig what I'm saying?"
In front of a question like that, Isaak maintained a poker face while deep inside, he tried to figure out what it meant.
Goods...? Isaak placed his hand on his chin as he thought. Does he mean drugs? That must be it, right?
"Which one?" Isaak asked, testing if what he guessed is true.
In response, Viktor extended his hand and made a counting gesture before focusing on Isaak again. "Anything. Dope, blow, smoke. You got any of that?" His voice low and steady.
Yep, definitely drugs.
Isaak considered his words carefully for a moment because, after all, he didn't have anything of value on his body right now. If he said anything wrong, Viktor might just ignore him and not care anymore, or worse, it could lead to another beating and chaos… which the young man definitely did not want to experience again.
After some seconds of thinking, he decided to respond Viktor's question. "Well, I don't have any drugs on me…"
Hearing this, Viktor's expression shifted quickly from aloof to confused, maybe even annoyed. However, as soon as he showed that, Isaak quickly continued.
"But hear me out." He continued. "While this isn't about drugs, I have something better for you to consider."
A burst of laughter erupted at Isaak's words, as the other gang members behind Viktor suddenly mocked him.
"Who's that guy thinks he are?" One of them asked with a smirk.
"Big Shot isn't dealing with someone who has nothing in their hands, especially not someone without drugs to offer." Another added.
A black man rose from his seat and walked over to Viktor, his voice cocky as he pointed directly at Isaak's face. "You still think you're a noble? Please, you're nothing in here, punk!" He then turned to Viktor. "Big Shot, let me handle this disgusting bastard. You don't have to dirty your hands with someone like this."
But in response, Viktor merely glanced back at him with a serious expression and said. "Get down, Benji. I don't need you in this conversation or getting into any stupid trouble." Which made the Black man, Benji, jump as he quickly retreated.
"You too, stop mumbling while I'm having a conversation or I will beat one of your ass up." He shot a look at the gang members behind him, silencing them instantly.
After silencing his gang members, Viktor shifted his attention back to Isaak. His expression showed slight annoyance, but overall, he maintained a steady and serious demeanor. He opened his mouth, quickly returning to the main topic.
"So you want to make me an offer that's not related to drugs?" He asked, pulling his hands from his pockets and revealing his muscular arms and veins, which definitely intimidated Isaak, considering how easily Viktor could crush his head; his arms might even be bigger than Mikhail's.
Isaak, on the other hand, despite being slightly intimidated by the sight of Viktor's muscular arms, maintained a calm and steady expression, the smirk never leaving his face. He stood straight, acting like it didn't even bother him.
"Yes. You have a problem with it?" He sneered.
Viktor raised an eyebrow, surprised by Isaak's unyielding composure. The smirk remained on the young man's face, and for a moment, Viktor found himself intrigued.
He leaned down to face Isaak's eyes, the air thick with tension.
"You dared to come into my territory and disturb my precious time." His voice dropped, low and menacing. "If you want to talk business, you have to prove yourself first."
Isaak blinked, confusion flickering across his faces. "Prove myself?"
Viktor's lips curled into a sly grin as he continued. "Win me in arm-wrestling, and I'll think about your little proposal. If you're scared, you could run away like a pathetic dog."
A burst of laughter erupted from Viktor's gang behind him. They exchanged glances, some shaking their heads in mockery at Isaak's foolishness.
"I bet he'll run away like a dog; that's what the nobles do best when they're scared!"
"Nah, I want to see him try and end up fumbling hard. Big Shot! Break that fool's hand for sure!"
"Look at that skinny body! He won't stand a damn chance, hahaha!"
Arm-wrestling huh?
For an average person, they would likely have fled by now, even at the risk of being called a coward. Confronting Viktor was one of the last things they wished they had to do. The reason was simple: Viktor was big, his muscles were ripped, and it was clear that anyone foolish enough to challenge him in a fight would be crushed with no chance. It wasn't just a joke when they said that he could bend every bone in your body like a mere balloon.
But sometimes, there are still exceptions. There are those who gathered enough courage to stand against the bear himself, confronting Viktor directly. These are the individuals Viktor often found intriguing.
As for the outcome of their bravery, it is quite predictable.
…They often ended up beaten half to death, or if luckier in the arm-wrestling challenge, they simply broke their entire arm.
And for Isaak right now, he is considering the choices he had.
He knew for sure he couldn't run because if he did, he would lose the chance to gain an ally for his jailbreak plan. But if he stayed and prepared to prove himself, he will definitely going to end up with a crippled hand for the time being.
Isaak gradually felt a surge of panic. He hadn't anticipated things unfolding this way, or perhaps he had but simply ignored it. He admitted he was an idiot for not planning this out before going straight up to Viktor.
However, lucky for him, he remembered he still had Frode as an ally! Perhaps he could ask him what to do next!
As Isaak turned his head and spotted him… Frode was standing yards away, blending in with the other prisoners while watching Isaak talk with Viktor… He didn't seem to come closer to help; the only thing he did was give Isaak a thumbs-up. That was all, nothing more than a damn thumbs-up.
That damn old geezer never changes… does he?
Isaak rubbed his head in frustration as Viktor continued to press him. "Made up your mind yet? There's still room for a coward like you." He said slyly.
To Viktor's surprise. Instead of choosing to running away like coward, Isaak decided to risk it and answered back with fierce determination. He stared straight at Viktor's eyes, unyielding said.
"You think I'll run away, don't you? Let me tell you what, being big doesn't mean you're scary, it just shows you're all brawn and no brains."
After those words spilled out of Isaak's tounge, the whole gang members behind Viktor stop laughing and just stare at Isaak in disblief.
But the young man just stood there, ready to dodge and run at any moment. He knew what he'd just said would likely be his last words, but there was no turning back.
If Viktor turned as crazily as Mikhail, his best option was to run and yell for help as loudly as possible. Hoping the Warden would come for him again, after all, he preferred remaining in his office, hearing words about killing himself rather than having all his bones broken.
One minute passed. Then two minutes went by. Unlike to Isaak's expectations, Viktor hadn't moved or even turned angry; this left the young man confused, as he was certain that when he offended Viktor, there would have been clear signs of irration on Viktor's face.
Viktor stood there for a few more seconds, staring at Isaak in silence before breaking the heavy quiet, his voice both intriguing and irritated.
"And you're all bark, no bite! Now stop wasting my precious time and get your ass down the breacher!"
Isaak was dumbfounded as he heard that. Don't tell me… All this time… This guy was just trying to think of a good comeback?
The next thing he knew, Viktor grabbed his hands and threw him onto the empty bleacher seat, making him hit the metal hard, groaning from his already injured back.
Oh my back… What the hell was that grip? How strong is this guy?
The black man instructed the gang member sitting next to Isaak to move so he could take the seat right beside him. He placed his big right arm on the bleacher, veins popping out.
Isaak slowly got back on his feet, surrounded by large black men seated around him. Some were chuckling, others looked as if they wanted to devour him immediately, while a few watched intently as they began betting on how long it would take for him to be crushed.
When he saw Viktor's arm in front of him, its sheer size and strength made him couldn't help but pray on the spot. He knew he was doomed and questioned why he'd ever agreed to this instead of fleeing.
But think about it; perhaps, with a small chance, they just want to test him? Frode mentioned that a test of courage is another way to earn acceptance and gain protection from the gang. So maybe this is it?
"Alright, alright!" Suddenly, a black man jumped from his seat and positioned himself between the young man and Viktor, acting as a referee. "You know the rules and so do I. No cheating! This is a fair play!"
Isaak gulped as he put his elbow down the bleachers and grip Viktor's arm back.
Although he was still nervous, he knew he couldn't turn back now. Isaak understood that he was weak and stood no chance against the guy in front of him. But it didn't matter, it wasn't about winning or losing anyway, it was about showing the determination he had, a determination to escape this hellish place.
"Here comes nothing." Isaak said with a smirk while staring at Viktor, ready for the arm-wrestling at any moment.
In response, Viktor just smirked. "Good spirit. But you're going down!"
The referee looks at the guards up the watchtowers a bit, and after making sure no guards were looking at their direction. He shouted.
"Began!"
Immediately, Isaak used all the force he had poured into his arm to try to take down the bear. His arm burned, every muscle fiber screaming in protest as he gripped Viktor's hand tighter and tighter, refusing to lose his hold.
He grunted, veins throbbing in his neck as he pushed with all his might. He felt the immense, unyielding pressure of Viktor's arm; he must to take it down, he will take it down! All the emotions he felt, he would channel into strength! Pain, sadness, anger!
Viktor's arm was like a thick pillar of muscle; it was nearly impossible to make it flinch, let alone take it down. But over time, Isaak began to feel Viktor's arm lower and lower, he was making progress!
"Yeah! You are the one going down! Not me!"
Isaak glanced up to looked at Viktor's face while catching his breath, but the first thing he saw was the gang members start to change from mocking him to looking at him with somewhat pity.
Huh? Why are they looking at me like that?
For a moment, he was confused. But when he turned to look at Viktor's face, he understood it all. He wasn't even trying to fake it; in fact, he was unbothered by Isaak's effort anyways.
"Heh, I have some compliments for your spirit and effort. But well, you just too weak."
The next moment he knew, his arm immediately cracked as he felt a sharp pain, almost like an explosion inside his bones. Then came a loud Thud on the bleachers. His right hand was immediately forced down to the metal surface, being demolished in just a few seconds.
Crack
"…"
"I won!"
In response, Isaak just sat there with a dumbfounded look before he smiled, took a deep breath, and then screamed all his lungs out.
"MY F#CK#NG ARMMMMMM!"