He had underestimated Charlotte Thompson’s abilities; he didn’t expect her to act so swiftly.
However, simply being sent to prison was nowhere near enough for the hatred he had harbored for years.
Justin Battleson gently caressed a ring on his right pinky with his left hand, with a faint smile teasing the corners of his mouth. In his eyes, however, there was nothing but chilling depths.
The driver shivered somehow, stepping on the gas to speed up the car.
An hour later, at a prison on the outskirts of the north of the city.
Everyone that Justin had asked for had arrived, causing quite a stir, as he led a big crowd to storm into the prison.
Upon receiving the news, the prison warden hurriedly came out to see them. Seeing Justin, his face bloomed into a big smile.
Located in the remote suburbs, the prison was surrounded by wild, overgrown weeds. Under the scorching sun, the knee-high grass sagged lifelessly.
Seeing the crowd behind Justin, the warden’s face turned sour, "Mr. Battleson, why have you brought so many people here? Is this..."
He had seen his share of people seeking revenge, usually posing as prison guards to sneak into the prison. But the audacity to bring so many people in broad daylight was perhaps a move only Justin Battleson could pull off.
At these words, Justin let out a low chuckle, his eyes filled with a bloodthirsty look. He simply nodded at the warden and softly said, "We’re not here for revenge, just to meet an old friend and to settle an old score." Find the newest release on novęlfire.net
His voice was deceptively casual, but it sent chills down one’s spine.
The warden touched his nose uncomfortably, knowing he could not offend Justin Battleson, so he ordered the prison gates to be opened. He then quietly stepped aside, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.
Inside, the cells were mostly shared, with everyone dressed uniformly. Regardless of gender, their hair was all shaven off.
On the second floor of the prison, there was a solitary cell at the end of the corridor for criminals serving heavy sentences. Unlike other cells, all the openings that allowed light or air were tightly sealed.
It was clearly the work of Charlotte Thompson.
"This should be the place. Open the door." Justin stood steady at the cell door while someone behind him took out the key they had gotten from the prison guard, stepped forward to insert it into the lock.
A click echoed in the silence. The door was opened.
The cell was pitch black and eerily silent. After a moment, a faint, nauseating smell began to seep out.
People outside the cell wrinkled their noses in disgust. The man who opened the door, standing closest to it, felt a surge of disgust threatening to rise from his stomach.
He turned around and casually asked, "Mr. Battleson, who’s in there? Why does it smell so bad?"
Justin fiddled with the flashlight in his hand, a smile playing on his lips as he stepped into the cell. With the flashlight on, the pitch-black cell was lit up.
At once, he saw the woman curled up in the corner of the cell. Her hair, matted and filthy, clung together like a solid mass, while her face was unrecognizably dirty. Her clothes were torn into strips and hung loosely on her body, revealing a great deal of her chest.
A rat even lay at her feet.
Upon seeing the light, the woman’s vacant eyes finally gained focus. She slowly turned her head, her appearance horrendously miserable.