Chapter 100
In fact, Xia Zuo had imagined such a scene countless times.
After confirming that the current warden of Eastwood was indeed named Crest, and that his appearance coincided with Christine's disappearance, Xia Zuo realized that this day might come.
But he didn't expect that this day would come so quickly and so unexpectedly.
——So fast that even though he had prepared himself mentally, he still froze in place uncontrollably, unable to look away.
And Ursula's condition was even worse than his.
At least he had been with Christine for a while, but Ursula hadn't seen César for a whole year. Her most recent memory was witnessing César's death helplessly.
The black-haired girl looked at the familiar figure with trembling pupils. Her body was shaking imperceptibly, but she was completely unaware.
"Xize..."
There was no expression on her face, but her voice was very soft, revealing a subtle sense of confusion, tension and grievance.
If you are not familiar with her, you will not be able to hear anything from this sentence.
It was as if the guards noticed her intention to move forward and immediately resumed martial law, fearing that she would do something to the warden. Even though they did not act rashly due to the warden's orders, the vigilance and murderous intent still affected Ursula, who was extremely sensitive to emotions.
For a moment, no one spoke, and the atmosphere fell into silence.
"Oh, aren't these our two new faces?"
Suddenly, a voice with a sarcastic smile gloated: "Who... killed someone?"
The red-haired man came near them with almost no obstruction - to be precise, it was not that he was not obstructed, but with his strength, it was really a very simple thing for him not to be discovered by others.
But Yaron is a guy who likes to watch the fun and not mind getting involved. It can be seen from his talent that he likes the environment around him to become painful and chaotic, and he will be happy because of it.
"If someone was murdered, and the warden witnessed it, then the rules of Eastwood should apply—" Seeing no one paying attention to him, the red-haired man didn't feel embarrassed. Instead, he chuckled and said, "Mr. Warden, how are you going to deal with this matter?"
"Indeed."
The warden's calm and pleasant voice sounded neither slow nor slow, no different from usual.
Xia Zuo's golden pupils suddenly shrank as he looked straight into the black-haired warden's gaze, but he could not detect any special emotion in it.
In those misty blue eyes that he should be very familiar with, there was no faint and vague smile, nor was there any calm indifference. There was only a coldness like condensed mist, without any unnecessary emotions. It made people's scalp tingle just by looking at it, and even made people doubt whether they were a human or a corpse in his heart.
Such a look made Xia Zuo's heart sink gradually, and a layer of chill spread over it.
Is Caesar acting? He's always been the best at acting—
Just as Xia Zuo was thinking this, he noticed that the black-haired girl with her head lowered beside him was pulling his clothes and her body was trembling slightly.
She once again fell into a state of near-loss of sanity. If it weren't for her subconscious desire not to go against [Cesare]'s wishes, she wouldn't have stayed here any longer and would have rushed directly towards the black-haired warden.
"I really should handle this matter according to Eastwood's rules."
The dark-haired warden's voice was even, "2512 will be fined one week in prison, and 2511 will have his work hours increased by three hours per week."
"And 2271, leaving his post without permission..."
Aaron's smile remained unchanged. "Oh, Warden, people have urgent needs. Can't I leave the workshop temporarily? This is not a hard and fast rule in Eastwood."
The black-haired warden didn't seem to be led astray at all. He slowly added, "And he spoke without authorization before the warden expressed his opinion."
Yalong's expression finally changed.
Damn it, how could I forget about this?!
The third iron law of Eastwood was that Bai Loli had her legs chopped off as an example to others because she violated this iron law.
The black-haired young man looked at him, with a half-smile and ambiguous smile in his voice, but when he listened carefully, it was clearly an eerie calmness, and the sense of disconnection was extremely clear.
"So, do you want to lose your tongue, or some other part of your body?"
He even had a deceptively friendly air.
Aaron sneered, "So, in the eyes of the warden, ignoring the Eastwood regulations and killing someone is not as punishable as casually saying something."
This was already a clear mockery, but the black-haired warden remained emotionless. He tilted his head slightly and said, "I'm glad you understand this."
Yalong: “…”
The black-haired warden continued calmly, "Whether it's the iron law of Eastwood or the rules of Eastwood, the core is only one: 2271."
The red-haired man naturally understood the warden's implication.
What about iron laws, what about rules? This entire prison is ruled by the warden, and his words are absolute truth, absolute iron laws.
Whoever he wants to live can live; whoever he wants to die can't escape.
"ha……"
A strong sense of hostility and ferocity flashed in Aaron's eyes.
The warden is really, really, really good at analyzing other people's psychology, accurately stepping on the things they hate most, and then grinding them hard on the ground.
He said with a forced smile, "I'm so sorry, Warden. I'm willing to extend my working hours until late at night. I wonder if you're satisfied with that?"
Warden: "Ah, only today?"
Yalong's smile was almost cannibalistic: "...lasting for a week."
After the red-haired man left, the warden turned his head slightly and looked at the two children who had been silent until now. His voice sounded gentle and calm: "So, how long are you going to watch me?"
"..." The brown-haired boy pursed his lips. When he spoke again, his voice was a little dry and hoarse: "Mr. Warden...can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," the warden agreed readily. "After all, there are still differences between you and real criminals."
Xia Zuo exhaled, looked straight at the black-haired warden without dodging or avoiding, and asked clearly: "Do you know Cecil Crest?"
He didn't miss the flash of doubt on the black-haired young man's face.
Before the surprise could overwhelm him, the young man spoke with a hint of confusion: "My name is César Crest."
"Are you looking for me?"
The expression on Xia Zuo's face had become stiff.
He never thought that the black-haired young man would admit it so naturally.
He was acutely aware that this was...worse than any scenario he had previously imagined.
He could barely control the emotion in his voice: "... Caesar."
Césaire Crest looked at him calmly: "Do you know me, sir?"
His gaze shifted to Ursula. "If I remember correctly, this lady also called my name. And the name of the warden of Eastwood is not known to everyone."
"Or should I say—"
The black-haired young man was handsome, and his misty blue eyes that could blur emotions should have been gentle, but when he said this, it was like a sharp blade, a blade that could kill people without shedding blood.
"Do we know each other?"
Unprecedented silence descended once again.
It was like someone was stabbed by a sharp knife, piercing through the chest, and what came out was not blood, but something that made people feel more suffocated than blood.
The black-haired young man blinked, no longer willing to waste time dwelling on these meaningless events. He turned around and was about to leave, but he heard the young man behind him say with certainty, as if he had remembered something: "Then how did you know we were coming and send someone to pick us up?"
"You left us alone with Yaron and one with Vilajunka. This doesn't seem like a random arrangement... You know us."
"…You remember Ursula and me, don't you?"
Even without looking back, the warden seemed to be able to sense the emotions in the pair of golden eyes that were watching his back.
"...Whether it's Christine or César, the one I know is a soft-hearted, best friend."
He repeated.
"I know Césaire, and Ursula knows Césaire."
"We are close friends."
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