Chapter 614: In Prison

"Go in."

With a clang, the cold iron door was opened. Muen was shoved along by the knights and pushed into this freezing prison.

Darkness and the stench of blood hit him head-on. The gloomy wind brushing his face felt like it led straight into the underworld. From deeper inside, he could faintly hear intermittent screams, and from a nearby corner came those numb, frigid gazes.

His body started to feel heavy. Some kind of restriction seemed to have been placed here as well—his battle aura felt like it had congealed into iron, impossible to circulate. But the way this place sealed people was far cruder than the palace’s forbidden spells, like forcibly pouring cement into your body. He could vaguely feel the stabbing pain of his meridians being compressed.

It didn’t affect Muen’s movements. If anything, since it was his first time in a prison, he was curiously sizing up his surroundings.

Everything matched his imagination of a creepy dungeon... and yet it was even more terrifying than anything he’d known. The chains were thicker than his wrist, dragged with an ear-splitting screech. And the one who looked like they might break free at any moment...

...was only a gaunt woman.

Her messy hair swayed faintly. The woman lifted her head, as if staring at him, her mouth moving in an indistinct mutter that was impossible to make out—chilling to the bone.

"Don’t look. That’s the lunatic who used to dig out people’s organs in Berland. She has no sanity left at all."

The knight warned him and led Muen all the way to the deepest part.

The blood-stench was even thicker here, and the prisoners weren’t half-dead like before. Every single one of them threw him a hungry-wolf stare.

"Stay here and behave."

Expressionless, the knight shoved Muen into the innermost cell.

"Don’t think about escaping. There are guards patrolling twenty-four hours a day."

"Don’t worry."

Muen shrugged and smiled.

"I’ve always been the most law-abiding person. I’d never do something as rule-breaking as that."

"Good."

The knight nodded lightly, then suddenly leaned close to Muen’s ear and spoke in a low voice only the two of them could hear.

"If you have any requests, call a guard."

"Hm?"

Muen blinked, not understanding the knight’s meaning for a moment.

But before he could ask, the knight had already turned and left. Only the heavy clanging of the iron door locking remained.

"If you have any requests, call a guard?"

Muen lowered his gaze to the cold shackles on his wrists and muttered, "Is that something a prisoner is even allowed to think about?"

He let out a quiet sigh.

But whether he was “allowed” to think it or not, his identity had already changed completely—from the noble son of a duke to a wretched prisoner.

From heaven to hell in the blink of an eye. Sigh... what tragedy...

"Yo. A newbie suddenly shows up. I thought it was some big shot. What’s this—turns out it’s a soft-skinned pretty boy?"

All of a sudden, a vicious-looking burly man stepped out of the shadows in the next cell. He stood behind the bars and leered at Muen.

"With that face, you’re some noble brat, aren’t you? And you got tossed into the Black Prison. What’d you do? Tell this big brother of yours."

"Commit a crime? I didn’t commit any crime," Muen said irritably.

"Hah. Everyone who comes in here says that. Including that crazy old hag who mutters all day long—she still thinks that cutting open someone’s belly was ‘exorcising evil’ for them. Just so you know, the people she ‘exorcised’ all died real ugly!"

"I really didn’t commit any crime. I’ve been law-abiding since I was a kid—kind and pure. I even help old ladies cross the street every day. How could I have committed a crime?"

Muen shook his head.

"Someone just framed me."

"Framed?"

The burly man froze, then showed undisguised pity.

"Political persecution. So you really are a noble?"

"Mm. I guess you could say that."

"Heh. Then the charge you got framed with must be huge!"

The burly man laughed.

"That means... hahahaha, you’re finished!"

"Finished? Why?"

"You know where this is?"

"A prison cell?"

"This is the Black Prison!"

The burly man pointed around him.

"The Black Prison, called a land of death! The only people who get locked up here are the most vicious, wicked criminals—charges so big that ten heads wouldn’t be enough! That’s why there’s no reason anyone would ever leave alive. And you, a guy being politically persecuted, got tossed in here—so that means..."

He licked his lips, a sharp gleam bursting into his eyes.

"It means you’ve been completely abandoned. For the rest of your life, you’ll probably only ever stay here!"

"Really?"

Muen was shocked.

Not only shocked that he’d apparently become one of those “vicious, wicked criminals” without even realizing it and was already doomed before any interrogation... but also shocked that this big guy locked up here somehow had that kind of insight.

"Forgive me for asking, but what charge are you in here for...?"

"Nothing much."

The burly man jabbed his thumb at himself smugly.

"I only killed, like, twenty-three people."

"Hiss—twenty-three!"

Muen sucked in a sharp breath.

"That’s terrifying!"

"By the way, three of them were soft-skinned noble brats just like you!"

"Scary. Way too scary!"

Muen looked horrified.

"If even someone as scary as you is locked up here, does that mean there really is no way out of this place at all?"

"Of course there’s no way out!"

The burly man answered.

"This place has restrictions that suppress cultivation, cell doors and chains cast from refined steel, and the guards here are brutally cold-blooded. They say every one of them is an old veteran who’s killed over a hundred on the battlefield—experts at torture and killing!"

As he spoke, he lifted his shirt and showed Muen the grotesque wounds on his body like centipedes. His tone turned heavy.

"The moment you have even the tiniest thought of breaking out, you’ll be tortured brutally! There isn’t a single patch of good flesh left on me! Their methods are like slicing piece after piece off your body—they’ll make you wish you were dead!"

"That’s terrifying!"

Muen sucked in another cold breath.

That miserable state was already about one-tenth as horrifying as the flesh-warping monstrosities he’d seen in those evil cultists!

For a “normal” murderer, it had to be said—this was indeed extremely harsh punishment.

"Heh heh. So I’m telling you..."

Seeing Muen looking frightened, the burly man once again wore a vicious, smug expression.

"From now on, you’d better behave and—"

"Ah. Wait a second."

Muen abruptly interrupted him and waved to a guard not far away.

"Um... could you get me a chair? There isn’t even anywhere to sit."

The guard ran over at a jog, craned his neck to peer into the cell, and after seeing that Muen’s cell was no different from the others—just filthy straw thrown down carelessly—he quickly lowered his head.

"I’m terribly sorry. We actually failed to notice that..."

"It’s fine. Hurry up."

"Yes!"

The guard jogged out again. Very soon, several guards who looked even fiercer than him, with terrifying auras, walked in from outside...

...carrying a luxurious sofa together.

They opened the cell door, cleaned the cell until it was spotless, then huffed and puffed as they carried the big sofa in. They even found the most appropriate spot to place it for Muen.

"Oh right. Can you prepare some food too? I’m a little hungry."

"At once!"

Not long after...

"Due to limited conditions, it’s a bit simple. We only have a Champly meat steak, paired with cod-and-scallop soup, and matsutake caviar for the side... Would you like red wine?"

"No red wine. I’m in prison, after all—drinking wouldn’t be appropriate."

"Then we’ll take our leave. If you have any requests at all, you may call directly for me. We have people standing by at all times."

"Thanks for your trouble."

"It’s our honor to serve you."

After a dazzling series of movements, those extremely well-trained guards silently withdrew to the outer area, making the deepest part of the prison even quieter.

Muen sat on the soft sofa, skillfully cutting his steak with knife and fork. He tilted his head and looked toward the burly man.

"Right. What were you trying to say just now?"

"..."

Cold sweat began to seep from the burly man’s forehead. In the past, he’d killed people without changing expression, but now, facing this young man’s smiling face, his legs were already starting to shake.

Damn it. Someone who can treat the Black Prison like his own home... what the hell is this guy’s identity? The Emperor’s lover?

"I... I didn’t say anything, heh... I didn’t say anything."

"Is that so..."

Muen crooked a finger at him.

"Then come here for a second."

"I..."

The burly man was about to refuse, but before he could even react, a powerful hand seized him by the neck.

Even though neither of them could use battle aura, he had absolutely no ability to resist.

"You killed twenty-three people, right?"

Muen tilted his head at him.

"If you really are human trash, that’ll be perfect. Please help me confirm a few more things, alright?"

"Ugh... ugh..."

The burly man struggled to breathe, and naturally... had no power to resist at all.

...

One minute later.

Muen wiped his hands with a silk napkin. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the burly man, already barely clinging to life. He raised his head—outside, the guards still hadn’t moved in the slightest, as if they were tacitly permitting what he’d done.

"Heh heh. So that’s how it is."

Muen shook his head, amused.

"They say they’re locking me up, but they’re actually taking such good care of me. Isn’t this basically them not being able to bear letting me suffer even the tiniest grievance? That dead tsundere."

Looks like he could finally relax completely.

Since his treatment hadn’t changed, that meant things hadn’t slipped out of Celicia’s control yet.

As for the interrogation later...

That was probably just going to be going through the motions.

"It’s just... I don’t know why, but I’ve got this weird feeling."

Muen frowned, inexplicably uneasy, like there was something he hadn’t thought of yet.

But... the evil-god power inside him ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ belonged to the absolute top-tier boss on the continent. The old loli and the Pope both knew about it and even tacitly allowed it. Even if all this publicity harmed his reputation, how could a charge like “colluding with an evil god” actually hurt him?

It was probably just his imagination.

Muen let out a breath and tossed those hazy premonitions aside. He leaned back comfortably on the big soft sofa and started enjoying this strangely entertaining prison meal in peace.

And at the same time, out in the area beyond his cell... in the part he didn’t know about...

The few guards who’d just been serving him were now facing off against each other, tension like drawn blades.

"Silent Bureau people? This isn’t something you’re allowed to interfere with."

"Heh heh. I’m here under orders, just to take a look."

"Tch. The Church of Life too? How are you getting dragged into something this vulgar?"

"It’s nothing. It’s just that the reward Young Master Muen offered was a bit too much. The archbishop told me to repay a little of it, that’s all. But you lot—this is your turf, yet you used such a dishonorable method. That really surprised us."

"It has nothing to do with you!"

They narrowed their eyes at each other, their gazes crackling with something like lightning, murderous intent spreading.

And in some corner somewhere...

Several people who’d been stripped naked and tied together were whimpering in silent misery, trembling as they watched this conflict that had already begun—unseen, intangible, and yet very real.