It was the dead of night, the third watch, with the moon hanging high above the willow branches. The atmosphere outside the Prefecture Western Prison was desolate and bleak.
A man clad in tight-fitting black casual wear held an official token, presenting it one by one to the guards stationed at the various checkpoints of the prison. He paced unhurriedly, moving at a leisurely stroll until he reached the deepest part of the dungeon—the area typically reserved for high-security prisoners.
He did not stop until he reached a specific cell.
Chapter 123