The backyard of the Guard Division, near the dark cell, reeked of urine, feces, and sour stench long before anyone even approached.
Andrew frowned, deliberately softening his footsteps—very, very soft. The dark cells were all occupied, and with their layered structure, even prisoners in adjacent cells could barely make a sound to each other.
Today, some prisoners were due for release. The nobles arrested for causing trouble last time were all getting out—but not for free. In the dark cells, nothing came without a price—even the watery porridge they ate had to be paid for in coin.
Andrew stopped at a low, cramped cell, crouched down, and unlatched the door. A dim beam of light seeped into the darkness, revealing Kevin lying motionless on the filthy ground.
His lifeless eyes stared blankly, his body half-submerged in his own waste. His hair was matted and tangled, and his entire being looked worse than a refugee—a sight far removed from any noble dignity.
Andrew wasn't surprised at all.
Anyone locked in a dark cell ended up like this after just two days.
And Kevin?
He'd been here for a week.
"Oi! You're free to go."
Andrew's voice was cold and indifferent. Causing trouble at the Lord's Manor?
A week in the dark cell was already far too merciful. If it were up to him, they'd be thrown into the black mines to dig until their hands bled.
The slight sound of his voice seemed to pull Kevin back to reality.
His dull, lifeless eyes slowly regained a flicker of awareness.
With trembling limbs, he crawled forward, not even bothering to avoid the filth-covered floor. He dragged himself out of the dark cell, collapsing onto the hallway ground, breathing heavily.
Andrew didn't spare him a glance.
He moved to unlock the other cells, releasing Scott and the rest of the noble brats.
Before long, the hallway was filled with a group of nobles who looked worse than beggars—pale, filthy, and reeking of waste.
They didn't look like nobles anymore.
They looked like starving refugees.
Kevin, Scott, and the others lay on the ground for three full minutes before the emptiness in their eyes slowly faded. Their bodies were weak, their minds dazed, but at least they were starting to process reality again.
Just then, Andrew appeared once more.
"Get up. You're free to go. Unless you'd rather go dig in the mines?"
His cold voice carried a hint of mockery and warning.
"Huh? No—please, no!"
The threat worked instantly.
The half-conscious nobles sprang to life, scrambling to stand—even if they stumbled and fell repeatedly. After a week in confinement, their limbs were stiff, and their minds sluggish, but fear drove them forward.
"Follow me."
Andrew didn't wait for them to steady themselves. He turned on his heel and led them outside.
In the back courtyard, a row of large wooden tubs filled with warm water awaited them. Steam curled into the cold air, the only sign of warmth in their miserable condition.
Their prison garments were thin, barely enough to keep out the winter chill. If not for the coal heating inside the dark cells, they would've frozen to death days ago.
But now?
They had a chance to wash off the filth—if they were still human enough to care.
"S-So cold…" Kevin's teeth chattered as he spoke, his body trembling uncontrollably.
The moment they stepped out of the dark, filthy cell, the harsh winter air bit into their thin prison garments like a thousand tiny needles.
"Damn it… They actually dared to treat us like this…!"
Scott's expression darkened, his fists clenched in rage.
The past few days of confinement had pushed him to the brink of despair. If it weren't for the thought of his unspent gold coins, he might have already given up completely.
"Shut up!" Kevin's bloodshot eyes snapped toward him, his voice low and filled with warning. "If you want to go back in, keep talking. Otherwise, save your damn complaints for later."
Scott's jaw tightened. He took a deep breath and nodded sharply. He didn't want to risk another trip to that hellhole either.
As the prisoners huddled together in the open courtyard, still shivering from the cold, a familiar figure approached.
It was Ryan.
His sharp gaze swept over them, his voice booming across the courtyard.
"Strip. Take off your prison clothes."
"H-here?! You want us to strip here?!"
Kevin and the others stared in disbelief, their faces flushed with shame and anger.
They were nobles—descendants of powerful families—yet they were being forced to strip in the open courtyard, where the cold wind bit into their flesh like icy daggers.
"Hurry up." Ryan's voice was as sharp as a blade. "Unless you'd rather go back into the black cell?"
The heavy gates behind them slammed shut, locking out any chance of escape. Inside the guard station, there were female staff members working—Ryan's own wife, Liza, among them. There was no telling if any of them might pass by and see.
"N-no! W-we'll do it!"
"We'll strip! Right now!"
Kevin, Scott, and the others panicked, the memory of the black cell's horrors far outweighing the shame of public humiliation.
Soon, a group of pale, shivering men stood in the open, completely naked.
Some squatted on the ground, trying to curl into themselves for warmth. Others covered their faces, their dignity shattered.
A few clutched their most vulnerable parts, as if that could shield them from the biting winter air.
It was a scene of pure humiliation.
"Splash them!" Ryan shouted.
Buckets of warm water were dumped over Kevin, Scott, and the others, washing away the filth and stench that clung to their bodies.
The water hit like a slap, shocking them despite its warmth. Dirty water ran off their skin, pooling on the ground, carrying away the remnants of their humiliation.
The guards weren't doing this out of kindness—they simply didn't want a group of shit-covered nobles walking out of the Guard Station, tainting its reputation.
Three minutes later, the last bucket was emptied.
Ryan gave a curt nod, and Andrew shouted, "Kevin, step up and collect your belongings!"
"Scott, come get yours!"
"Next!"
Kevin and Scott froze for a second, then—without thinking—sprinted forward, their bare feet splashing in the cold puddles.
They didn't even care that they were still naked, their pride long abandoned.
They snatched up their old noble attire, along with their gold coins and personal belongings, as if afraid the guards might change their minds.
Soon, they had all changed back into their clothes. Although they still carried the stench of filth and urine, it was much better than before—it at least made them look somewhat human again.
"Now, go to the front desk of the Security Office and pay for your stay in the black cell." Andrew rested one hand on the hilt of his horizontal blade, his voice cold. "Once you've paid, you can leave."
"Huh?" Kevin and Scott's eyes widened in shock. They had to pay for being locked up? Wasn't that just spending money to suffer?
"Move it, or do you want to go back in?" Andrew glared at them, his voice sharp.
This system of charging prisoners after detention was an improvement introduced by Ryan. Previously, too many people had intentionally gotten themselves locked up just to get a free meal. Now, those who couldn't afford to pay would be sent to the mines for a few days to work off their debt.
"Ugh..." Kevin and Scott instinctively shrank their necks, exchanging uneasy glances before reluctantly shuffling toward the front desk.
At the front desk, Kevin, Scott, and the others grudgingly paid for their week of meals, which consisted of wheat porridge, as well as additional fees for coal heating, cleaning the black cells, and laundering their prison clothes.
Only after settling their debts were they allowed to leave the Security Office.
As they stepped outside and looked at the bustling crowds, many of the noble youths collapsed to their knees, clutching their heads and sobbing. This... this was the taste of freedom and light!
"Damn it!" Kevin tilted his head back, staring at the sky to keep his tears from falling. A viscount like him had been treated this way? It was the greatest humiliation of his life.
"I will have my revenge for this disgrace." Scott clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his palms. When had he ever slept in his own filth before?
"I'm returning to the royal capital." Kevin's expression turned vicious. "I'll inform the Fourth Prince and the Duke of Lady Catherine's death. When they march to take revenge on Sedona City, I'll be the first in line!"
A cold glint flashed through Scott's eyes as he spoke in a chilling tone, "Aren't you going to capture Dahlia and bring her back to the royal capital? What if she escapes?"
Kevin shot Scott a sideways glance—this bastard was trying to use him as a pawn.
Scott sneered, "If we go back empty-handed, someone is going to die for it." His voice was laced with malice. "And don't forget, we need to bring back Lady Catherine's corpse as well. Otherwise, who would believe you?"
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