Chapter 87
Vilajunka didn't want to completely destroy the Eastwood Prison for the Insane - with just these preparations, it would be a fantasy to destroy this long-standing prison - she just wanted to get out of here.
Creating chaos is just the first step.
According to the reaction capabilities of this prison that she had observed many times, within three minutes at most, these well-trained prison guards would find the source of the danger and activate weapons specifically targeting Dead Sea life to deal with the thing that she and the organization had spent so much effort to smuggle in.
but……
The real purpose is not just chaos. She and the organization want more than just chaos.
"What's going on? This thing is absorbing power...it wants to self-destruct?!"
The prison's special incident handling team immediately laid down their weapons and reported the situation to the captain who was more capable of making decisions. The captain then immediately activated the emergency system according to the prison's established practice.
Therefore, the equipment responsible for providing energy for the prison's air cover and defense systems allocated some of its power to the area where the abnormal situation occurred.
At the same time, the huge aerial energy shield covering the entire Eastwood Lunatic Prison seemed to be stuck, and there was an extremely tiny crack that was invisible to the naked eye.
But in this extremely tiny crack, the originally impregnable prison began to have the possibility of being affected by external talents.
You know, there are many types of talents, all kinds of strange types and abilities. The reason why Eastwood has the confidence to prevent any prisoner from escaping is because the energy shield not only plays a defensive role, but also isolates all external talents from being used inside the prison.
For example, Vera Junca could use her suppressed talents to exchange small things with items inside the prison; but if she were outside at this time, it would be absolutely impossible for her to use things from the outside world to exchange things from the Eastwood Lunatic Prison.
——But now, this layer of defense has failed for a moment.
The blonde woman's position was instantly locked.
At this moment, a purple chain was silently pulled around her body.
And just when this talent was about to take effect, ignoring any physical or energy interception, and taking Vila Junca out of prison—
The bony hands, which had been wearing black leather gloves, grasped the chain carelessly but with exceptional strength.
At the same time, the familiar young man's voice sounded:
"Restore power to the sky barrier."
As soon as the words fell, the chain, which seemed extremely fragile to begin with, suddenly shattered in the air. Although there was no sound, one could almost hear the shattering sound.
The blonde woman's movements paused for a moment.
She suddenly raised her head and stared at the black-haired young man who should have been asleep and unaware of anything. For the first time, the expression on her face was no longer the indifference and arrogance of someone who had nothing to do with her.
The woman said coldly, "You haven't been tricked at all."
Her gaze shifted to the back of the black-haired young man—he was the medium they had chosen to plot against the warden, a prison guard numbered 0585.
But now he was standing soberly and respectfully behind the warden.
Although the prison guards' faces were filled with shock and trance, they were not punished at all and were able to follow the warden here, which meant that their plan had failed from the beginning.
——Perhaps, their every move had long been seen by the newly appointed warden, and he could even guess their future plans clearly.
Otherwise, how could the warden appear at such a perfect time and put an end to all their efforts and plans without any surprise?
This madman... he clearly did it on purpose.
He pretended to be tricked and didn't take any action, just like watching a clown watching the show they performed for him.
He was probably still laughing when they successfully breached the prison's defenses.
"Life in prison is too boring and monotonous. I understand your desire to do something."
The warden seemed not to understand the meaning of her words. He had a very calm smile on his face, but his voice was like a truly cold and silent Dead Sea. This strange contrast made people's hair stand on end.
"But as the warden of Eastwood, I can't be partial to you." The black-haired young man sighed slightly, then turned and ordered, "No. 2351, attempted to use his talent to attack the warden. Cut off their hands and feet and throw them into the water prison."
"As for 2198..."
Vera Junca could feel the warden's gaze, completely devoid of any emotion, falling on her, unlike the slightly elongated tone of his voice. It was like the gaze of an anaconda in the jungle, making her feel cold all over.
"Chopping off hands and feet would be too bloody, so I'll just break them off first as a punishment."
"Of course, during this period, the prison will not provide any protection for 2198."
——This one is the cruelest.
Vilajunka offended many people in Ishvetri. Even though her talent was limited, her physical fitness and combat reaction, which were developed through fighting, were not comparable to those of ordinary people.
But what if their hands and feet are broken now, their fighting capacity has dropped significantly, and they can no longer be suppressed by force?
The result is obvious.
The warden was not interested in the outcome. He just gave the prisoner the most appropriate punishment.
"Execute it immediately." The black-haired young man tilted his head, revealing a smile that made it hard to tell whether it was real or fake, and said childishly:
"I'm tired, so I'm calling it a day. Ben will take care of the rest."
The next moment, the prison guards who were on standby on both sides came forward, ready to take the blonde woman away for execution.
Wirajunka showed no resistance, knowing that resistance was futile at this moment.
It seemed that as long as the warden was there, no matter what tricks the prisoners used or how long they had prepared, they would all be destroyed in an instant.
In fact, when the plan was about to succeed, the surprise, despair and powerlessness that suddenly appeared on the black-haired warden's face were so great that even she found it difficult to ignore them for a moment.
After watching the drama for free, César went to see the so-called "suspected Dead Sea life" after dealing with the prisoners.
After reading it, he sighed with disappointment: "It is indeed a creation of technology combined with talent."
The comics were silent: "If you have this technology, why not use it for the right purpose?"
It can be divided into countless inconspicuous branches, hidden in cigarettes and smuggled in, and can automatically assemble and start after all accessories are in place, and run according to the set program. This cannot be done without a brain blessed by God.
I can only say that in a world with talent, even the technology tree is weird and crooked.
"But this also shows that the prison guards are somewhat irresponsible." The comic will said: "There must be more than one prison guard who is not vigilant enough when facing the gifted prisoner."
Xizel smiled and said, "It's definitely unrealistic to expect all prison guards to be conscientious in their duties and pay close attention to every detail. There are no spies or informants planted by other forces here, and they are all absolutely loyal to the warden. That's already quite good."
And after this incident, it will be a while before anyone will be so foolish as to cause trouble.
The black-haired young man unbuttoned his cloak, took off his hat, closed the door, and casually loosened his collar, preparing to take a short rest.
As he said, call it a day.
*
Outside the Federal Center.
The cold winter has gradually faded away.
A golden-haired winged messenger descended from the sky, a sword stained with the warmth of blood hanging from his waist, and walked towards the brown-haired boy in the center of the armed forces.
During this period of time, his stature has grown again. The blood and war have given him a more resolute temperament and a sweeping murderous aura.
With victory after victory, the undefeated brown-haired boy had a very high status in the resistance army that started from the wasteland. Even the blond-haired envoy of God folded his wings when he was still some distance away from him.
The brown-haired boy and she both understood the reason behind her actions.
Noticing her arrival, the leader of the resistance army stood up, put away the book in his hand, and restrained his murderous aura more carefully: "...Mo'er."
Moore nodded: "Leader of the Freimen."
Her face was expressionless as she spoke in a businesslike manner, "The Federation has called in reinforcements. We are currently unable to break through the Federation's defenses, and there are significant casualties on the front lines."
The brown-haired boy frowned upon hearing this, and the fierceness in his body overflowed uncontrollably. "They really are collaborating with the Talented Crime Group... The Federation is so shameless."
Moore said coldly, "The Federation is also actively contacting the Patrol Tower."
It turns out that when it comes to matters of life and death, even asking for help from old enemies is not so difficult to accept.
The brown-haired boy quickly assessed the situation and said in a deep voice, "I will take action in the next battle and share the pressure on the front line. Mol, I'll leave the rear to you."
Mol's talent is unquestionable, and he believes that leaving the rear to her is the best choice.
Wasn't it the same thing back then... when His Majesty was still around?
The golden-haired divine messenger looked ahead calmly until the human leader had passed her and came behind her. Then she suddenly spoke out:
"Don't forget your promise, Freeman."
The air seemed to be still.
The sound of a memory that one does not want to recall being revealed sounded silently.
The brown-haired boy exhaled, then turned around and showed a somewhat helpless and complicated smile, but his words were powerful and firm.
"I will, Mol."
The haze faded away and he tried to put on his brightest smile.
"I will survive."
He would survive and, keeping his promise, bring César—or Christine—back in one piece.
The blond envoy seemed to nod slightly, but did not turn around.
Then she flapped her wings slightly and gradually disappeared from the brown-haired boy's sight.
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