Prophecy (2)

The basement of Cadis Prison was noisy. Disorder, violation of curfew time, and more. It was a floor close to the detention center where vagabonds were gathered.

Twenty to thirty men in one cell were entangled with a stinky smell.

All sorts of noises echoed through the bars. Abusive language, shouting, groaning about moss stuck between stone walls, snoring, and shouts of resentment.

Get out of the way before I beat you all, you bastards!

The jailer threw the drunkard he had just caught on the floor.

Shylock jumped up in reflex. Fortunately, he was able to avoid being crushed by the heavy man's ass.

He wrinkled his face and turned his head toward the guard.

Look. How long will I be here?!

The guard slammed the door shut and disappeared.

It was difficult to endure the fact that he had deliberately ignored it. Shylock was on the verge of going crazy.

Valueless garbage that could not even be used was clamoring from afar.

The place he was in was, after all, a cell where only perpetrators of drunken misdemeanors were kept. Even if he fell into a basket full of cockroaches, he thought it would be less disgusting than this.

If it weren't for the drunkards, I think things would have been better somehow

Just looking at the things in the same cell, his jaw trembled in rage. If he could know any information about the duke, that was enough.

The inhabitants of Cadis were the ones living closest to the duke. Moreover, the information obtained from the bottom was surprisingly useful.

If only they weren't drunk!

How can you say that these garbages cannot even distinguish where they even are? It was as if he had deliberately picked up these filths Shylock, who had been muttering with his teeth, stopped.

Cold energy tickled the back of his head. No way. No matter how

At that moment, the man who had just entered crept closer to Shylock. The smell of cheap alcohol and stinky urine wafted out.

I see. Hiccup! Your clothes look pretty good, do you have some money? What came in Maybe 100 million!

Shylock slapped his cheek with a hand. The sudden attack shook the man. The eyes of those lying in the cell were focused at once.

He took his handkerchief from his arms and wiped his hands. Don't take away my precious time.

He was of course prepared for a situation where he would be attacked by the duke. If the aide who was waiting outside Cadis got in touch with him

This Old man!

The drunken man who had been slapped by him and wriggling on the floor opened his eyes.

Bloodshot eyes fluttered. He jumped up. You died today!

He swung his fist at Shylock.

Shylock stepped back quickly, and his fist brushed the tip of his nose in an instant. The drunkard couldn't control himself and staggered forward and ran.

Ugh!

Then he alone shoved his nose into the iron bars and lay flat on his back.

Not only the other drunkards watched the scene with interest, but also the guys in the cell across from them giggled and burst into laughter.

Shylock felt his brain explode and his skull split in all directions.

He patted the tall man sitting next to him with his toe.

Hey. You.

Huh?

The red-nosed drunkard looked up at Shylock with a lot of annoyance. He was quite muscular, and the fact that he had tattoos all over his forearm was obvious.

Shylock took a gold coin from his inner pocket. Inside the dark cell, a round gold coin flashed like the sun, and the roaring noise gradually subsided.

The value of one gold coin was enormous. Among commoners, many died without touching a single gold coin in their lifetime.

Shylock looked down at the gangster. I'll give you this, beat him. Beat everyone, and I'll give you another one.

He dropped the gold coin on the floor. It fell with a clattering and clear sound.

Someone snatched it up quickly.

It's money!

As if it was a signal, the other drunks shouted and rushed in.

Shylock was caught up in a swarm of drunks like seaweed caught in a tidal wave.

Urgh!

In the narrow cell, dozens of men clashed. There was violence and commotion, not knowing who it was directed at or what it was for.

The guards rushed in and beat the iron bars with their clubs, but no one listened to the order to be quiet.

Eventually, the guard beckoned, and a guard with a long gun approached and fired at the ceiling.

Bang! The piercing noise and the pungent smell of gunpowder made the drunkards scream and fall to the floor.

The guard looked at the cell with a look of irritation.

How many times a day do you guys have to make a commotion, huh? I can keep you locked up for the rest of your life!

Shylock, who had fallen to the floor, took a deep breath and wiped his nosebleed with the sleeve of his robe. What is this.

The guard looked down at Shylock. Hey. Shylock Isles. You have visitors.

Visitors?

Ten minutes are allowed. Make it quick.

Shylock frowned and lowered his hand. His eyes fluttered as he saw the man appearing from behind the guard. M-my lord

Shylock's face lit up in shame at the startled aide's eyes. It was a disgrace.