"Boom~"
Another punch landed, and Brian's expression slightly changed as he stopped his movements.
He frowned, looking at his 'Iron Fist Cover' on his right hand.
The fist cover, made from iron tubes, was now completely flattened, with the fist mark protruding and a clear dent torn right through the middle, as if it had been cracked open.
It wasn't that it had hit a steel bar, but a metal corner.
Visible within the hollow of the wall, amid a web of cracked crevices, was a silver metallic corner, carrying several scratches—marks left by Brian's punch.
Inside the wall, there really was something—a metal box!
..
Half an hour later,
the young Prison Director of Jem Prison twitched his eyes as he observed Brian, head down, kneading and toying with a 'metal sheet' in his hand.
The action was eerily similar to the way his grandmother kneaded flour to make cookies.
But this was iron!
Iron!
