It’s been almost a week since the group became trapped in the prison and it was already in chaos.

Corpses and makeshift homes made from benches littered the open yard.

No Fishman guards remained in numbers that even stood a chance of fending off the might of the rebellion.

The place was loud and chaotic like a beehive near a cocaine farm.

“S-stop that!” cried one of the guards, he managed to escape from Crown’s slave mine only minutes earlier and was hoping to make it to the warden’s base, the only bastion of safety for the guards.

“Y-y-you will c-c-call off the rebellion right now!” he commanded.

Foxly approached the man, he wasn’t wearing a shirt and instead, he had large muscles drawn on in marker, he also had some drawn-on tattoos.

He wore Fishman bones and skull-like ritualistic shaman armour.

“You will o-obey me p-p-prisoner!” the Fishman exclaimed.

Foxly was sitting on the wooden bench carried by four buff-looking inmates.

They were all smeared with random symbols drawn in ash.

Foxly drew a dick on one of them because he thought it was funny but nobody got it so one of his bodyguards is just walking around proudly showing off his (drawn-on) dick.

“It’s warlord Foxly now, not prisoner…” Foxly corrected the man in a raspy voice.

“…”

Foxly silently chewed some gum.

He wore black sunglasses and held a pick behind his head like a delinquent with a baseball bat.

“…”

The guard looked at Foxly intensely.

“W-where did you even get sunglasses down here?!” he demanded.

Foxly leaned in close to the Fishman.

“I didn’t, I drew over my eyes…” he replied putting on a raspy voice and holding out a black marker.

“S-so you can’t actually see me…?” the guard asked.

“I never said my eyes were closed…” Foxly replied as the guard gazed into his solid black pupils.

Foxly leaned back on his bench.

“Drag him to the mine, men!” he commanded.

The four minions did as ordered.

Meanwhile, across the yard Alex and John were stuck in a two-day-long arm wrestle, they were also free.

What was once an excited crowd became a ring of sleeping individuals, they passed out after the first twenty-four hours.

The earth quaked below the two as JohnWillStab and Alex increased their strength stat and gained, quote “Mad prison rep”.

“Tired yet?!” John demanded.

Alex was already asleep, he drew eye-balls on his closed eyelids and used rope and cloth to keep his arm in the right position.

“Heh… playing the silent game, eh? I can to that too!” John gritted his teeth as he continued trying to win the match.

Meanwhile across the prison, Bonifacius stood with a fist held in the air surrounded by a cheering crowd.

“If thou want freedom, thou need only grasp it! Thou have nothing to lose but thy pickaxes!”

The crowd cheered.

“EEhhh…. N-no taxation without representation!”

They cheered again.

“Home rule is Rome rule!”

Bonifacius continued saying random quotes since they helped raise everybody’s morale.

Crown stood outside a ring of benches.

Two dozen fish-people stood inside with picks in their hands mining a hole in the ground.

“GO ON YOU LAZY BASTARDS! NEXT ONE OF YOU TO TAKE A BREAK LOSES KNEECAP-PRIVILEGES!” she exclaimed pointing at a few of the guards who were at this point in the middle of having a mental breakdown.

JohnWillStab was the first to figure out how to remove the cuffs, he simply removed his hands.

It was more difficult to convince the rest but together with Bromy’s healing magic, the procedure went smoothly.

Inside the big stone tower stood the warden as well as a handful of guards.

The base was tall and tower-like, the entrance was barricaded with furniture and corpses of fallen fishmen.

A massive window overlooked all the tribalistic villages that emerged in the different quarries, the Steelpick tribe to the east was the most aggressive while the central lunchyard nation of Lunchtopolis was seen as the most civilized.

“Y-you should call the boss…” one of the guards recommended.

“…” the warden scratched his balding head.

He used the magic friend-list to call the mastermind behind the ore-mining prison camp.

“H-hello?” the voice on the other side asked, loud music could be heard in the background.

“Hi, it’s Tony…” the warden began.

“Tommy? How’ve you been? Remember that one time I told you about the island of retarded fish-people I god to make a mine for me?! HAHAHA!”

The warden stood there awkwardly.

“N-no… it’s Tony… the warden…”

“Oh…”

“How’s the island prison thing going?” asked the voice.

The warden looked back to his subordinate who all nodded in approval.

“…”

“Promise you won’t be mad…”

There was a slight pause.

“I promise,” the voice replied uncertainly.

The room went silent for another while.

“There’s a rebellion…” the warden finally admitted.

“…”

“What?” the voice demanded.

“B-but our plans!” he cried.

“You promised you wouldn’t get angry!” the warden exclaimed visibly tearing up.

“A-alright… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have yelled…” the voice apologised begrudgingly.

A pickaxe flew in through the glass window stabbing into one of the fish-people.

A loud splat was heard followed by the sound of screaming.

“…”

“What was that?” asked the voice.

“T-that was Tommy, sir…”

“NOOOOOOOO! TOMMY!” cried the voice.

“C-can I really go on without Tommy?” the warden asked.

“I-I certainly hope so, sir… b-because we’re all kind of stuck here…” the warden replied.

A long sigh was heard from across the friend communication.

“I… I think I have to take a break… I just wanted to fulfil Tommy’s greatest wish… the colossal waterslide going from the surface to the depths…”

“…”

“…”

“What?” asked the warden.

“Yeah, it would have been really cool, it’d go from the beach to the underground and would have only cost two gold per person!” the voice exclaimed.

“WE’RE GETTING MURDERED OVER A WATERSLIDE?!”

“…”

“Hello?!”

“…”

“THAT SON OF A BITCH HUNG UP ON ME!” the Fishman warden said stomping on the ground with rage.

“That’s it! We’re going down there and we’re going to teach those bastards who’s in charge!” the warden exclaimed.

“R-right!” a few of the guards nodded.

Their spirits hight they headed down, weapons in hand ready to take their pride back as guards and wardens.

They all died trying to quell the rebellion, most to Bromy…

All of them died to Bromy.