Lin Mu looked at the glowing seal, then looked back at the guard, expression unchanged. To him these seals may as well not exist.
The guards shifted awkwardly, then turned on their heels and walked out, muttering to themselves.
Only after their footsteps faded did the ambience of the prison return: the hollow dripping of condensation, the faint hum of suppression formations, and the low murmurs of other prisoners.
Lin Mu glanced around. Each cell was occupied. Dozens of cultivators sat behind bars, some meditating, some sleeping, some glaring out at nothing.
He raised an eyebrow. "There are this many criminals in the outpost?"
A man in the cell diagonally across from him snorted. He was lean, with dark hair tied behind his head and a half healed cut along his cheek.
"They are not all local criminals," the man said. "Most of us are in transit. We are just passing through before being transferred to real prisons."
Lin Mu nodded slowly. "I see."
