“What’s wrong?” Hesse looked at the towel in his hand, asking with some confusion.
Had he upset someone?
“Nothing…” Yan Chuan adjusted his collar again, making sure Hesse wouldn’t notice anything strange.
He didn’t know how to explain that part, but Hesse shouldn’t be able to see anything there.
Hesse suddenly realized, “Oh, oh… drying hair?”
Yan Chuan nodded.
As Hesse dried his hair, he talked about what had just happened.
“The person taken away was from Cell No. 9,” he lowered his voice, “five people—a complete loss.”
Yan Chuan looked up.
“Were they… your followers?” He stumbled over pronouncing a few names.
Hesse nodded calmly.
Yan Chuan frowned.
Quite a few people had died in one night.
Yan Chuan confirmed that the monster that had approached him last night was indeed from the script.
But the people who died… what a coincidence, they were all people he had seen around Hesse?
Was it just a coincidence?
Yan Chuan didn’t know, but at that moment, the prison guards outside were loudly urging them to come out, probably meaning they had resolved the situation.
The guards knocked on doors, calling out to the inmates as if nothing had happened.
Although the inmates were rife with speculation, they obediently complied in the face of armed guards.
Yan Chuan blended into the crowd.
He didn’t intend to go to the main hall… He wanted to check the laundry room.
He wondered if Lyon was still there.
It was where he had worked before, and he hadn’t returned since he got a sick leave from Dr. Nave. Coupled with the need to complete tasks, he had to stay with Hesse.
After exchanging a few words with Hesse, Yan Chuan left the crowd and walked away.
Passing through the corridor, he saw the familiar guards still stationed there, but he didn’t see anyone inside.
Where was Lyon?
Was something unfortunate happening?
Standing in the empty room, he looked at the small cart piled in the corner, feeling a bit lost.
Lyon had been there since he entered the prison, even arriving a bit earlier than him.
It was also from him that Yan Chuan had heard many names related to Confinement Island Prison.
But apart from Lyon’s name… he didn’t know much about the person.
Yan Chuan didn’t know Lyon’s number, didn’t know which cell he lived in, and didn’t know why he was there or how long he had been.
Suddenly, a chill ran through Yan Chuan.
It was possible that something had happened to Lyon; he reassured himself.
He stood in place for a while, deciding to find the guard outside first.
The guards had been here for so long; they must know a bit about the inmates, right?
Hesitating, he walked towards the guard on duty.
“Hello… Officer,” Yan Chuan pointed in the direction of the laundry room and asked, “Do you know where someone named Lyon went?”
The guard paused, momentarily surprised at his approach, then repeated, “Lyon?”
Yan Chuan hesitated and nodded.
“The person who worked with me here,” he struggled to describe, “he’s been here for a long time, very tall and thin, with freckles on his face. Do you remember him?”
The guard shook his head.
He instead asked Yan Chuan, “Isn’t it only you working here? There shouldn’t be anyone else.”
The guard’s certain demeanor made Yan Chuan doubt his own memory.
He glanced back at the other guard on duty with him.
The other guard also shook his head: “We’ve been on duty here and haven’t seen anyone you described.”
He thought for a moment: “But you haven’t been here for a while; it’s now assigned to someone else. You should leave.”
Indeed, a prisoner pushing a cart of clothes walked back in from outside.
“Thank you…” Without gaining any information, Yan Chuan felt he couldn’t linger there anymore and had to leave.
The corridor felt empty; for some reason, Yan Chuan felt a bit cold, shivering slightly.
The air seemed particularly chilling.
He wrapped his coat more tightly around himself.
How could the guards say Lyon wasn’t here? Who was that man he had met before?
But the guards had no reason to deceive him.
Yan Chuan pondered why the two guards had spoken so much to him and insisted there was no Lyon at all. What was their intent?
To make him believe he had seen a ghost, that he had been talking to air?
Yan Chuan found that unlikely.
【The atmosphere suddenly turned cool】
【Don’t worry, dear; maybe he died in an accident halfway】
【Don’t scare me; I’m easily frightened】
【Will darling encounter the warden? I want to see the little thief getting caught and punished severely (rubs hands)】
Having received no news from the guard, he decided to ask someone else.
Yan Chuan first thought of Hesse’s followers; since they had come looking for Lyon, they must know him.
But halfway there, he remembered what Hesse had told him.
Yan Chuan had previously wondered why the former followers had all encountered mishaps.
Things suddenly became surreal.
The guards patrolling the laundry room claimed they had never seen anyone named Lyon and said he had always worked alone, while those who had troubled Lyon couldn’t answer Yan Chuan’s questions.
Hesse… didn’t come forward, and Yan Chuan couldn’t be sure if he had “seen” Lyon with his own eyes.
There was no evidence.
Yan Chuan could only think of this.
His doubts deepened.
So many people… did only he and Hesse’s followers know Lyon?
Yet Yan Chuan didn’t recognize all the people in the prison; many faces remained entirely unfamiliar to him, leaving him unable to find anyone to ask.
[…] Previous post 0 0 votes Article Rating […]