With a single, savage thrust, Bruce drove the chopsticks deep into Scar's left eye. Scar's howl was pure agony, echoing off the stained walls as Scar stumbled backward, blood gushing from between Scar's fingers. The cafeteria froze, the air thick with shock and the copper tang of fresh blood.
Bruce didn't hesitate. Something primal had snapped inside Bruce, and there was no turning back. Bruce vaulted the table, landing on Scar with a force that rattled the floor. Bruce pinned Scar down, hands trembling with rage, and began smashing Bruce's own forehead into Scar's skull, over and over. Blood sprayed, mixing with sweat and spit, and Bruce barely noticed the pain splitting his own scalp. All Bruce could see was red, months of humiliation, the fresh, raw wound of loss, and a lifetime's worth of rage boiling over.
Scar's crew, Big Wu, Skinny Li, and the rest, stood paralyzed, eyes wide, faces pale. Bruce looked deranged, a wild animal cornered and ready to kill. For a moment, even these hardened criminals were too stunned to react.
Big Wu was the first to move, barreling forward and slamming a fist into the side of Bruce's head. "Let go of Scar, you fucking psycho!" Big Wu shouted, voice cracking with fear. Skinny Li joined in, kicking Bruce's ribs, but Bruce didn't flinch. Bruce's hands locked around Scar's throat, squeezing with a strength born of desperation and the desire to drag Scar into the abyss.
Bruce's only thought: If this is the end, Scar is coming with me.
Scar's face turned purple, eyes rolling back as Bruce's grip tightened. Panic erupted among Scar's crew. Skinny Li grabbed a wooden stool, ready to bash Bruce's skull in.
Suddenly, a squad of guards burst into the chaos, batons drawn, shoving inmates aside. Two guards tackled Skinny Li, yanking the stool away. Three more tried to pry Bruce off Scar, but Bruce fought like a man possessed, nails digging into Scar's flesh, refusing to let go.
It took six guards to finally rip Bruce away from Scar's limp, gasping body. Even then, Bruce twisted free, lunging forward to sink his teeth into Scar's ear. The cartilage tore with a sickening crunch. Bruce chewed, spat the bloody chunk onto the floor, and glared at the crowd, eyes wild and unhinged.
The cafeteria fell into stunned silence. Scar's henchmen shrank back, horror and disbelief etched on their faces. No one dared move closer.
Captain Ma, the chief guard, stormed in, face white with fury and disbelief. Captain Ma pointed at Bruce, voice shaking. "Bruce Chen! What the fuck do you think you're doing? Do you have any idea how serious this is? Inciting a riot!"
Before Captain Ma could finish, Bruce wrenched free from the guards and sprinted toward the far wall, head down, ready to smash his skull open and end it all. Bruce's intent was clear, death was better than this hell.
At the last second, Old Zhao, an elderly inmate with surprising speed, lunged from his bench and wrapped his arms around Bruce's waist, dragging Bruce to the ground. Guards swarmed, pinning Bruce down, sweat streaming down their faces as they struggled to control him.
Captain Ma stared down at Bruce, realization dawning. Bruce wasn't just fighting, Bruce was trying to die. Captain Ma's anger faded, replaced by grim understanding. Captain Ma barked, "Hold Bruce Chen down. Don't let him out of your sight for a second!"
Bruised, bloodied, and barely conscious, Bruce was hauled to the infirmary. The medical staff worked quickly, patching Bruce's wounds and sedating him, but nothing could reach the storm raging inside Bruce's soul. The fire in Bruce's eyes remained, undimmed by pain or restraint. Bruce Chen was no longer just another inmate. Bruce had become an awakening, a legend, a rebel, a force of nature that would echo through the cellblocks, whispered in awe and fear.
In that moment, Harbor City Prison learned a brutal truth: a man with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous creature of all.