This chapter has some raw energy—like a beast finally unleashed. The rage and momentum from Arthur is powerful, and Olivia's entrance with Scarface's head? That's cold and perfect. The chaos of the escape fits the tone of your world really well. Now here's a bit of constructive feedback with a suggestion for revision and enhancement to elevate the chapter:
What's Working:
Arthur's fury is visceral and believable. He feels like a caged storm finally let loose, which is exactly the vibe you're going for.
Olivia's entrance is baller. She's calculated, deadly, and efficient—a great foil to Arthur's rage-fueled assault.
The action pacing is fast and engaging. Readers won't be bored for a second.
What Could Use Tweaking:
Grammar and structure – Sentences need more punctuation and smoother flow. Some spots need clarity.
Character voice separation – Dialogue could be more distinct per character.
More visuals on the chaos – Flesh out the dungeon environment more to heighten the escape tension.
Jimmy's fate – The closing line is solid, but we could make it land harder.
Here's a cleaned-up rewrite suggestion for your "Escape" chapter (first half):
Chapter 4 – Escape
"So today's the day, huh?" Olivia whispered, leaning against the cold wall of the slave corridor, her creamy white hair draped over one shoulder like moonlight. Her pink eyes shimmered in the dim torchlight. "We're finally going to escape."
Arthur's amber gaze flicked toward her. "You sure this'll work? Even if we get out... how are we supposed to survive down there?"
Olivia gave a soft scoff. "From what I overheard the guards saying, this is just a beginner dungeon. The monsters shouldn't be that hard to kill." She leaned in closer, her breath warm. "And even if they are... I don't know about you, but I'd rather die fighting than rot in this place."
Arthur's jaw clenched. "They're watching me more closely. If you hadn't gotten out of solitary—"
"—I wouldn't have been able to sneak off to see you," Olivia finished with a grin. "Tragic, right? I think they're starting to notice how beautiful I am."
Arthur blinked. "How can anyone be so arrogant?"
She gasped, dramatically offended. "How dare you? It's not arrogance if it's true—it's pride."
"Pride, huh? Lucky for you your face makes up for your horrible personality."
Olivia's smile widened. "Admit it. Even if I didn't eat and turned into a skeleton, I'd still be the most beautiful thing you'd ever see."
Arthur chuckled. "That just means you'd be a pretty corpse with an attitude."
Their banter died as footsteps echoed nearby.
Olivia's expression hardened. "Ready?"
Arthur nodded. "Yeah."
She inhaled deeply. "Okay... on three. Three, two, one—"
A voice shouted, "Hey! You two! What the hell do you think you're—"
Crack.
A black flash blurred past the guard's vision. A shadowy claw wrapped around his throat, then slammed his body into the stone floor. Bone crunched. Blood pooled. The man didn't even scream.
Another guard turned the corner, halting mid-step at the sight. "You beasts finally snapped, huh?" he sneered, eyes locked on Arthur. "I'll be the one to remind you of your place."
Arthur didn't respond. He tilted his head. "Where are Scarface and Jimmy?"
The guard blinked. "What?"
"I owe them something... special."
The guard scoffed. "How about I deliver it for you?"
"No," Arthur growled. "You'll be dead too soon."
He leapt.
The guard tried to draw his sword, but Arthur moved like lightning on all fours. The blade nicked his hand—a metallic clang rang out. Steel on steel.
"What the hell? His skin—!"
Arthur drove his claws straight through the man's chest.
From the shadows above, more guards began to flood in—and Arthur smiled.
"Jimmy!" he roared, covered in blood. "You're finally here! Come! Let me rip your skin off myself!"
Alright, here's Part 2 of the Chapter 4 rewrite in the same high-intensity, cinematic style — all the way through to Olivia's badass entrance.
"Move!" one of the guards shouted as Arthur tore through the second man the one who shouted was the same guard that gave Arthur's food every two days even if he wasn't saying his name right he knew the beast was after him.
Blood sprayed like paint across the dungeon walls. Three more charged in, blades raised, eyes wild with fear and adrenaline.
"Where the hell are you going, Jimmy?" Arthur snarled, catching a glimpse of a familiar, trembling figure turning to run. "You coward! Come back here and die properly!"
One guard tried to get between them. Arthur didn't even slow down. He slammed into the man, claws raking through flesh like parchment, tossing the body aside with a sickening crunch.
"Stop him!" someone screamed. "He's a damn monster!"
But Arthur didn't care. His eyes were locked on one thing: Jimmy. The man tripped over a fallen comrade's corpse, scrambled back up, and bolted toward the stairwell. Arthur lunged after him—
Then he stopped.
That scent.
A harsh, acrid mix of sweat and smoke. The smell of burned skin and cheap wine.
Arthur turned just as Scarface stepped into view.
Same long scar slicing across his cheek. Same ugly smirk on his face. And now, fire wreathed his fists.
"You should've stayed in your cage, beast," the man growled. "Now I'll enjoy burning you alive."
Without warning, Scarface punched forward. Flames burst from his knuckles as he drove his fist into Arthur's gut. Arthur grunted, sliding back on the stone floor.
"Die. Just die already," Scarface spat, throwing another flaming fist into Arthur's face.
The burn sizzled, but Arthur didn't scream. He smiled, bloodied teeth gleaming.
"Still ugly, huh?" he muttered, lunging forward with his claws. They clashed—fire against fury, magic against muscle.
They traded blows in a violent dance. Scarface tried to incinerate him, but Arthur wouldn't fall. He hadn't learned magic yet, hadn't awakened his system—but he didn't need it.
He had rage. He had purpose.
"You ready to die, beast?" Scarface growled, raising a flaming fist one last time.
Arthur caught it. "No. But I'll see you in hell soon... right after I visit Jimmy."
He raised his claw to end it—
Splat.
Scarface's head rolled across the floor before Arthur could even strike.
Olivia stood behind the corpse, calm as ever, her white hair slightly singed at the edges, her pink eyes glowing with quiet satisfaction. In her hand, she held Scarface's head by the hair.
"Will you hurry up?" she said, barely out of breath. "We need to move. The rest of them will be coming from the upper dungeon floors soon."
Arthur blinked. "You... found the door?"
She nodded. "It leads deeper. I have a plan."
Arthur's brow rose. "A plan? You sure it's not just another one of your crazy ideas?"
She smirked. "Don't worry, pretty boy. I'm smarter than I look."
Arthur snorted, wiping blood from his face. "That's not a high bar."
"Charming," she said, turning toward the door. "Now are you coming, or are you planning to write poetry with that corpse?"
Arthur grinned.
"One last thing," he said, glancing around the battlefield. "Where's Jimmy?"
His voice echoed like thunder.
"Jimmy!" he shouted again, louder this time. "Come out, come out... I still owe you that present."