What would you do if when you entered prison for the first time everyone thought you were weak without knowing that you could defeat them with one hand? When Tomás walked through the rusty doors of the Santa Cruz penitentiary, the air seemed heavier. His lowered gaze and slim body made him the perfect target. No one imagined that this silent man of contained movements, hid a past that few would dare to face.

Recently convicted for a street fight where he had ironically defended an old man from thieves. Tomás was sent to serve two years in prison for excessive use of force. He was not a criminal, but he had already learned that justice often favors the aggressor. Upon entering, it was not even 30 minutes before the rat, an inmate known for terrorizing new ones, noticed it.

Tall, muscular, with a scar across his face and a crooked smile. The rat approached with his group like a vulture smelling blood. Look at what they brought us. A toothpick with a monk’s face. Are you coming to pray or cry, rookie? The others laughed. Tomás did not answer, he just lowered his gaze and continued walking.

But that was enough to make the rat feel challenged. He pushed him against the wall and threw the first blow, not to hurt, but to mark territory. Tomás allowed himself to be beaten. It was not the time yet. But what no one knew was that this skinny, quiet man was no ordinary prisoner. In his youth he had been a martial arts instructor in the police and had trained with some of the best kungfu masters in the world.

And although he had sworn never to use his abilities again, he was about to break that promise. The following days were hell for Tomás. The rat and his group followed him around every corner of the prison, in the dining room, in the courtyard, even in the showers. His food was thrown on the floor, his soap was stolen, and sometimes he was forced to clean his cells as if he were a servant.

“Move, slave,” one of the thugs said as he threw a dirty tray at him. This is how they teach the weaklings in the church. Every insult, every push, every look of contempt was one more spark in a fire that Tomás tried to keep out, but inside it something began to creak. I knew I couldn’t take much longer without exploding, not out of pride, but out of dignity.

One night, while sweeping the hallway in front of the rat’s cell, one of the thug’s accomplices put his foot on him to trip him up. Thomas fell to his knees and all the prisoners around burst into laughter. The rat came over and spat near his face. Stay on the ground like the dog you are. But this time Thomas did not get up immediately.

He stood there taking a deep breath with clenched fists, feeling how every muscle in his body remembered his training. The silence of his mind contrasted with the bustle of mockery. That night, when he returned to his cell, his roommate, a tattooed old man who had been watching him in silence since his arrival, told him in a raspy voice, “I know who you are.

I saw you at a tournament years ago. Why are you putting up with all this?” Thomas stared at him. He didn’t answer, but a faint smile came across his face. Because what no one knew was that the lion does not respond to the barking of dogs, it just waits for the right moment to roar. O estopim bello numa tarde abafada, no patio de exerrcicios.

The inmates were alone for an hour, taking advantage of the little sun that crossed the high walls of the prison. Tomás caminhava em silêncio como sempre, avoiding provoking. But the rat didn’t want to humililate him, he wanted to make an example of it. Skinny rat shouted, stalking everyone’s attention. Hey, this graduation day.

Let’s see if you know how to defend yourself. Sem aviso, avan soco direto. Tomás desviou como se tivesse previsto movimento com uma calma quase supernatural. The group of Elrata riu, claiming that it was luck, but the second blow saw faster and Tomás turned to dodge. Dessa vez de um passo para trás, assumindo postura baixa, centrência. What’s going on? You are afraid, provoked El Rata, now furious.

That time happened with a precise turn, Tomás deflected the third blow and a fluid movement grabbed the aggressor’s arm and the derubou with controlled force. Caiu no chão com um baque seco, gemendo de dor. O pátio silenciou. Um dos capangas avançou correndo. Em segundos, Tomás o derrubou com um chute direto no estômago.
 

Another tried to grab him from behind, but he was thrown on the concrete like a cloth bone. Nenhum dos homens conseguiu sequer encostar nele. A multidão de presos nora via, avía. Open mouth. O manm que todos pensavam ser fraco, dançava entre os ataques como um fantasma, rápido e precisa. Nothing in this movement was exaggerated, hardly efficient and lethal.

When the last attacker played in the game, Tomás parou no centro do círculo formed by internal hairs. He was more serene. Ol for the rat, que agora o fitava com terror nos olhos. I warned you,” Tomás said in a baixa voice. Don’t confuse silêncio with weakness. A partir daquele momento, ninguém mais ous se aproximar com desrespeito.

Desde aquele dia, o nome de Tomás comes a circular pelos corredores da prisão com outro tom. It was not a reason for pity, but for respect. Até os carcereiros o observavam con cautela. The rat, humble from everyone, spent days in the infirmary and when he returned, he avoided crossing or smelling with the man who had destroyed his pride in a few minutes.

Tomás used his vitória to dominate anyone. Continu silêncio, fulfilling his days with discipline. But now, when he walked through the corridors, the prisoners opened the way. Some of them met with a slight penny, or observed how they admired two younger people, imprisoned for small furts, approached the library and said: “Well, what do you know?” Tomás o ol, penso y pela primeira vez en semanas sorriu de verdade.

Of course, but first you have to learn to have patience, to transform dor fora, or silence into power, humilha into wisdom. Cuando fin saiu da prisão, do anos depois, não saiu como entrou. It was not just the man who had survived the inferno. He was the master who had conquered respect without needing to destroy anyone, just showing who he really was.

And so he left a mark that no one would forget, because in a world where many roar to frighten, he chose silence until it was necessary to roar. What do you think of this story? Have you also ever been underestimated? Let me know in the comments. Subscribe and don’t forget to like it if this story touched your heart.