Alban Prison was a facility surrounded by double walls, with eight towers for observation and the cellblock located in the center. The staff facilities were located within thick walls.
When I requested a meeting with the warden, I was made to wait for about 15 minutes on a chair in a dimly lit and long hallway.
Perhaps my introduction letter had helped, as I believe it would have taken even longer or maybe I wouldn’t have been granted a meeting at all without it.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. The warden will see you now,” a woman in a very tight dress led me to the meeting area.
She had a striking gaze and a larger than usual mouth, though I had never heard of female prison guards to begin with.
“Are you also a prison guard?” I asked.
“No, I’m the secretary of Warden Blackberry. Only men serve as guards,” she replied.
Without showing any smile or cordiality, the secretary began to move.
She walked sensually, swaying her curvaceous hips, making the sound of her high heels echoing against the stone walls.
She must be the warden’s personal secretary, which meant she was off-limits.
Warden Blackberry was a large, burly gentleman with a big belly. Perhaps due to age, he had lost most of his hair, and the remaining thin hair formed stripes from his forehead to the crown of his head.
However, he seemed to have succeeded in amassing wealth, as evidenced by his well-tailored suit and a large gold ring on his finger.
“Stand over there, Barton. Oh, let me call you by your first name. Your uncle and I have been close friends for 30 years,” Warden Blackberry greeted me.
Although Baron Foster and I were related, we weren’t particularly close. I felt indebted to him for this particular matter, though.
“Thank you for your kindness. As it says in my introduction letter, I’m currently in search of a job…” I began to say, trying to sell myself.
However, Warden Blackberry interrupted me with a hand gesture and explained, “I understand. I was actually looking for new talent myself. However, the position available is that of a sixth-class official.”
In the Kingdom of Britannia, civil servants held ranks ranging from first to eighth-class officials.
Eighth-class officials were mostly hired for temporary work, while seventh-class officials were regarded as lower-level clerks. In other words, sixth-class officials were at the bottom of the bureaucratic hierarchy.
There’s no use sacrificing the present for the future, as far as I’m concerned. Luxuries are the enemy for someone like me who doesn’t know what tomorrow may bring.
“I don’t mind. I assure you that I will dedicate myself wholeheartedly to my duties,” I replied.
“Hmm. Can I ask you a few questions? Are you good at keeping secrets?” the director asked.
“I was raised in a noble household. I know the importance of discretion,” I answered.
I was well aware of the consequences of careless talk.
“Very well,” the director nodded, his double chin wobbling.
“Can you use magic?” he asked.
Only about 3% of the population could use magic, and most of them were only capable of using one type of magic, known as innate magic.
There were some who could use two or more types of magic, but they were few and far between.
Count Morris, the Chief Court Mage, was famous for being able to use five different types of magic.
Moreover, Mage tended to occupy important positions in society.
“I do possess magical power, but unfortunately, I cannot use it,” I explained.
I had indeed inherited the ability to use magic from my father, but no matter how hard I tried, I was never able to manifest it.
As a child, I used to think that if I could use magic, I would be recognized as a member of the Sullivan family. However, I have long since given up on that dream.
“I see. That’s nothing to worry about. I can’t use it either,”
It seems like he was just asking for the sake of it.
“Now, onto the important matter at hand…” The warden paused for a moment, staring at me with a serious expression, as if he were about to reveal a great secret.
“Do you know how to speak the celestial language?” he asked.
“I have some confidence in my ability to speak it,”
I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I had always possessed a natural talent for languages, and celestial language was a particular strength of mine.
Celestial language was considered the language of the heavens, and only those in the knowledge classes of society, such as nobles, clergy, and scholars, were capable of speaking it. Even the oldest surviving religious texts were written in celestial language.
However, it was uncommon for nobles to speak the celestial language fluently, as their interests often lay more in power and economics than in academia.
The warden’s mood improved significantly upon hearing my answer, and his face lit up with a bright smile.
“Exactly the kind of talent we were looking for. We’d like you to start working with us as soon as tomorrow,” he said.
And so, I became a prison guard. While this meant I wouldn’t have to wander the streets anymore, I was only going to be paid a monthly salary of 21,000 gil. This was less than half of what I earned as a butler for the Sullivan family, where I made 49,000 gil.
However, I would be able to live in the housing facility that was attached to the prison and receive three meals a day. Plus, there were other ways to earn money, mainly by taking bribes…
Furthermore, I learned that there were additional incentives for handling punishments such as torture and flogging.
As a sixth-class official, it was said that without bribes, it would be impossible to make ends meet.
Would I be able to manage somehow? The thought of whipping and beating criminals made my heart heavy and my vision darken.
Later that day, my senior officer, Event, showed me to my small private room. It was even smaller than a hotel room and quite dusty. The room was filled with a small bed, a table, and a clothes rack.
“Your work starts tomorrow morning. You can use today to settle in,” Event said.
He was a sly-looking man who quickly learned that I had noble relatives and became unusually friendly towards me.
“You’ll have a lot to learn, but I’ll teach you everything you need to know about working in the prison,” he said.
“Thank you. I appreciate your help,” I replied.
“No need for thanks,” he said with a smile.
I’m not naive enough to take everything at face value.
As I slipped a silver coin wrapped in a tissue into Event’s hand, he grinned widely, revealing his yellowed teeth.
“You can count on me. I’ll teach you all the ways to make money here, so don’t worry.”
After Event left, I was left alone in the small, dingy room, feeling a deep sense of loneliness. The Alban Prison was dimly lit and had a foul odor. I couldn’t help but think that I might have made the wrong choice, but I had no other options.
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