Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Death Row Inmate_1
The next day, in the wardenâs office.
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"Warden, I have inspected all the cell blocks, and there are no anomalies." Flandre, the cell block chief, respectfully saluted Aiden, who was seated behind the desk.
"Okay, good." Aiden, who was busy with paperwork, nodded his head.
"These are the letters delivered to the wardenâs mailbox today, I have brought them for you." Flandre handed over a stack of neatly bundled envelopes.
"Why so many today? Are there any with official stamps?" Aiden looked up briefly.
"None, they are all regular correspondence."
"Then set them aside for now, Iâll look at them later." Aiden gestured with his pen toward a corner of the desk.
The mailbox of the warden of Rose Iron Prison was open to the public, accepting letters from the people besides work-related correspondences in order to gather feedbackâa system Aiden had established after assuming office.
However, few ordinary people would send letters to the prison; most regular correspondence came from inmatesâ families, friends, or other related individuals, and could contain anything.
These letters were a low priority in terms of work and were generally dealt with last.
"Next, hereâs the suggestion form submitted by an inmate from the core zone yesterday, which I have organized; please take a look." Flandre then handed over a sheet of report.
Allowing prisoners to regularly submit suggestion forms to the warden was another new policy implemented by Aiden after taking office, a channel of communication between inmates and the prison authorities that was unimaginable in the past.
"Just read it to me." Aiden instructed without looking up.
"Room twoâs Felipa, a tiger person, requests to purchase a fur comb, saying itâs for grooming during molting season..."
"Approved."
"Room fourâs all inmates request the addition of the complete novel set âThe Tyrannical Hell Duke and the Little Witchâ to the reading room."
"That trashy novel, they actually read that? Approved."
"Room sixâs Katherine requests to buy a dagger, claiming itâs only for warding off evil spirits."
"Deny, tell her not to treat the guards like idiots."
"Also from room six, Anna... she left a message on her application saying she will eventually hang you and then hoist your body on the mast of her flagship."
"Deny, switch all her meals to dried radishes, the food she hates the most, for the next two days."
"Room thirteenâs Succubus Phyllis requests a sentence reduction, saying she would âthank you in a special wayâ..."
"Deny, tell her to expect solitary confinement if she submits similar requests again!"
...
Aiden responded to each of the inmate requests that Flandre read out, while efficiently attending to his current workload. Flandre couldnât help but show a degree of admiration for her superior.
No one else knew that Aiden could handle this job so admirably, mainly because he had work experience from another world.
Before arriving in this world, Aiden had served diligently as a prison guard under another name in a world devoid of magic and fantasy creatures, until he passed away prematurely from illness.
Then, inexplicably, in this world, he reincarnated into the body of a young police officer who had been assassinated in the suburbs, starting a new life.
The previous "Aiden" was a Senior Investigator skilled in gunfire, swordsmanship, and even black magic, belonging to a law enforcement agency known as the Inquisition and had personally captured many dangerous criminalsâincluding Ophelia, a Pureblood Vampire Prince who escaped yesterday, and thus had many sworn enemies.
After inheriting the memories of his predecessor, he swiftly realized a serious problemâwith his level of experience, continuing in this position would likely lead to his premature death.
Fortunately, he soon discovered that in this world, he had the opportunity to transfer to another judicial department. Adhering to the principle of loving the career you work in, he found a way to be assigned to prison work, and just like his previous life, he became a prison guard.
In just a few years, he had risen to the position of warden, drawing on the work experience accumulated in his previous life.
Although he didnât have the usual sorts of miraculous abilities, his past experiences proved useful, and overall, he was quite satisfied.
After finishing his current work, Aiden looked up and was surprised to see Flandre still standing in front of his desk, so he asked, "Is there anything else?"
"Some new inmates will be brought over tonight, and I need to report to you." Flandre replied.
"What kind of inmates?"
Aiden knew this wouldnât be an ordinary inmate; ordinary inmates wouldnât require a special report to him, the warden, they just get a brief mention in the weekly reports with some identity and case information, like the succubus arrested yesterday for pandering.
"Itâs a senior officer from the cavalry police, named Veronica Wolfe, 22 years old, sentenced to hanging for the murder of civilians, with the execution scheduled for the twelfth of next month, and she is to be transferred to the core section."
"Why transfer to the Core Zone?" Aiden pursued.
Murderers were hardly a rare species in the Rose Iron Prison, and unless they were dangerous individuals that other prisons couldnât contain, there was no need to throw them into the Core Zone of the Rose Iron Prison, nor was there any need to report specifically to him.
"She is a Pureblood Werewolf," Flandre added.
"I see," Aiden realized.
Werewolves, because of a curse, were endowed with the special ability to transform into wolves, but also afflicted with the symptom of losing their sanity at the sight of a full moon, dominated by a beast-like impulse to slaughter.
A Pureblood Werewolf referred to those whose entire bloodline was cursed, born with the werewolf curse.
Their transformed state was stronger than that of ordinary werewolves, and of course, their berserk state when out of control was even more terrifying.
Regular prisons had difficulty containing werewolves, as these powerful creatures could twist off chains with their bare hands and easily take guards hostage when transformed, which was the main reason this prisoner was being transferred to the Rose Iron Prison Core Zone.
"A werewolf actually managing to become an officer in the mounted police, she must be either exceptionally capable or had some backdoor help," Aiden commented offhandedly.
As a public official of the judicial authority, Aiden had a certain understanding of the internal atmosphere of the police force. Werewolves were feared by the public due to the risk of losing control, and department leaders afraid of taking responsibility would never want to recruit such individuals, let alone promote them heavily.
"Looking at her track record, her personal abilities are indeed extraordinary, passing the police selection test with full marks at seventeen, capturing two Class A wanted criminals, and even being awarded second class merit for her role in dealing with a cataclysmic magical beast disaster. Her outstanding performance won her appreciation, and the accident this time also resulted in disciplinary action against her superior."
"Such a rising star in the police force becoming a death row inmate is quite interesting," nodded Aiden. "When is the transfer?"
"Tonight."
"Then letâs arrange another patrol tomorrow morning; Iâll meet this new prisoner."
"Understood," Flandre was about to leave when she noticed Aidenâs cup was empty, "Iâll go and refill your tea."
"No need to trouble..."
"Itâs no trouble at all, just a lift of a hand."
Flandre courteously took the teacup, left the office, and headed to the pantry.
"Good morning... oh, isnât this the wardenâs cup?" another colleague who came to pour tea greeted her.
"Yes, serving tea and water to the big boss," Flandre replied while pouring tea.
"Indeed, we must have this little bit of service; without this big boss coming here, how could we have these peaceful days to enjoy tea?" the colleague remarked, shaking her head. "Thinking about the past when we were so busy we couldnât even go home for many days, my husband almost divorced me."
"All right, thatâs enough brownnosing. Why donât you take over his tea pouring duties from now on?" Flandre chuckled.
They were both long-time guards of the Rose Iron Prison, and in terms of tenure here, Aiden was far less experienced than them.
When Aiden had first been transferred to Rose Iron Prison, he appeared to be just over twenty, and many were worried whether this young man could handle the job here.
After all, Rose Iron Prison concentrated the most dangerous witches of the continent, constantly plagued with magical mayhem and frequent jailbreaks and riots.
Moreover, compared to the male-only Thorn Iron Prison of the same category, the Rose Iron Prison received far less attention, continously lacking in funds and manpower, making management very difficult.
Even the warden ten years ago was killed by prisoners during a large-scale riot, and after that, those who took over either resigned voluntarily or sought transfers by all means, until Aiden was promoted to this position because of his outstanding work performance.
Right after taking office, Aiden immediately pushed forward a series of reforms to address the difficulties of the prison.
He established a grading system for prisonersâ treatment, used various rewards and punishments to discipline them, produced benefits to bribe capable model prisoners as pawns, added educational rehabilitation departments, and set up reading rooms and sports facilities to relieve prisonersâ repressive emotions...
Through these methods, he quickly brought the entire Rose Iron Prison into order, transforming it from the worst prison in Silvertown into a model prison praised year after year.
With discipline and performance improved, the work of the prison guards also became much easier.
Everyone was deeply grateful to this capable young warden, and no one knew from where he had conjured so many strategies. In everyoneâs eyes, this boss was both strategic and forceful, a big boss worth following closely.
"By the way, you didnât forget to report on that death row inmate, did you?" the colleague reminded while pouring tea.
"How could I forget something so big," Flandre shook her head.
"I heard that guy not only injured the colleagues who came to arrest her but also tried to attack the judge during the trial. Really frightening, just because someone said a few bad words, she heatedly went over in the middle of the night and killed them." The colleague remarked while holding a teacup, "Letting a werewolf be a police officer, I wonder what was going through the minds of the mounted police team."
"Such death row inmates are the most troublesome, you never know what kind of trouble they might cause. Honestly, Iâm a bit worried," Flandre slightly furrowed her brow. "Before the execution day, we still have to feed this monster for over a month, and the prisonâs barrier can only seal magic, itâs totally ineffective against such werewolves."
"This situation... the warden should be able to handle it," the colleague said, also not without concern.
"Yes, letâs hope nothing go awry."