As I made my way deeper into the building, passing through multiple heavily locked doors and iron bars, the air grew stagnant and thick. A sickly sweet and sour stench that made my stomach churn became increasingly strong.
Finally arriving at the cell block, I found myself in a small area lined with twelve cramped rooms, each fitted with iron bars. The rooms were barely two meters wide and four meters deep.
Each room was packed with around six prisoners, including humans, beastmen, hobbits, dwarves, and other races. The prisoners’ beds consisted of nothing more than hard wooden boards laid directly on the floor, without even straw mats.
Most of the prisoners were afflicted with diseases such as skin ailments and gaol fever, and there were probably no healthy ones among them.
The inmates followed a basic rule of silence, and anyone who spoke unnecessarily was immediately punished. Although the prison was eerily quiet when we first entered, I thought I could hear whispering coming from somewhere.
The prisoners had been instructed to hide in the darkness and whisper to each other in a volume that others couldn’t hear. I had been given orders to use my baton to punish any prisoners who were caught speaking to one another.
Ever since I was born, I have never hit anyone outside of military training. The only time I’ve been hit was when my half-brothers took out their frustration on me.
I sincerely wish that no one would talk in front of my eyes. Maybe taking this job was a mistake afer all.
The thought of resigning and approaching the warden Blackberry crossed my mind, but my wallet only has 3980 gil left.
It’s too late to go anywhere else, and I’ll only end up ruining the face of Baron Foster, who arranged this job for me.
I’ll have to endure until I save up enough money.
A female prisoner pressed her breasts against the bars and used suggestive gestures towards me, showing her yellowish teeth. Her infected skin and thinning hair made it clear to me that she had syphilis.
I will work hard to save up enough money, and escape this hellish place.
After putting the prisoners in the cell, I was taught the patrol route.
“It’s bigger than I thought.”
“Start by memorizing the main places. The cafeteria, the cesspool, the laundry room, the chapel, and the visiting room, that should be enough for now. It’s also a good idea to remember the VIP rooms. That’s where the money is made.”
The VIP rooms are cells for wealthy prisoners. Whether it’s a worldly society or a prison, the presence or absence of money determines the standard of living. Even here, prisoners with financial resources can buy large, clean rooms, eat good food, drink alcohol, and even have women.
In some cases, they can even get an exemption from punishment. The profits from these rooms all go into the warden’s pocket.
Although the warden’s status is only that of a third-class official, it was said that his income exceeded that of a second-class official.
“Mr. Brown, you have been sentenced to 20 lashes by the judge’s order.”
“Warden, is there anything I can do? I can pay up to 40,000 gil per lash…”
“Hmm, that’s a total of 800,000 gil… Alright, you are a model prisoner with strong faith. I will exempt you from punishment this time.”
This is what prison is like, where conversations like this are commonplace. Depressing, isn’t it? Where is justice? You don’t see much of that in the Britannia Kingdom.
I spent the morning supervising labor. In Alban Prison, we used a rotating pump to extract groundwater, and it was the prisoners’ job to operate the machine.
Eight prisoners took turns operating the machine for four-hour shifts, and they weren’t allowed to take breaks. It was our job to keep them at a steady pace, poking them with batons if they got sluggish.
Event, today’s supervisor, didn’t watch over the work very closely. Instead, he sat on a big rock and plucked his nose hairs.
The prisoners all looked visibly relieved. It seems that there are slackers everywhere, and some guards are stricter than others.
“Just make sure they don’t disrespect you. There’s no need to go out of your way to make them hate you. Prisoners and guards scratch each other’s backs,” he said.
That seems to be the way Event handled things. As for me, I refrained from wielding my baton and simply gave occasional verbal warnings.
A servant came into the room with the water pump, sporting a friendly countenance that made him appear to be in his early twenties.
“Excuse me, is Mr. Wolf here?” he asked.
“I am Wolf,” I replied.
“Warden Blackberry requests your presence. Please accompany me.”
I glanced at Event, who had just finished plucking his nose hairs and was now working on his ear hairs.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” I said.
“Sure thing. We still have fifteen minutes before the shift change. I’ll be in the break room. The tea over there tastes like horse piss, just so you know.”
When I stepped into the hallway, the young servant greeted me politely.
“I’m Peter Bunny. I’ve been appointed as Mr. Wolf’s assistant,” he said.
“I see. I am a newcomer who doesn’t know right from left yet. I’m counting on you,” I replied.
In the prison, a prison guard is assigned an assistant by the warden.
Even Event had an assistant named Lorne; the latter had a cold and unsympathetic expression on his face. He was the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to strike a female prisoner and keep a calm face.
Peter seemed much easier to get along with, and I was glad to have him as my assistant.
“By the way, what does the warden want with me?” I asked.
“I haven’t heard anything specific. He merely told me that he wanted to see you,” Peter replied.
“Well, I guess I’ll find out when I get there,” I said.
Peter cheerfully led the way.
“I’m glad to be your assistant, Mr. Wolf. I used to work for the Golden Team for over half a month,” he said.
“The Golden Team?”
“I was in charge of supervising the work of loading shit and piss from the temporary storage area onto the wagons of the collection crews. It’s the most hated job in Alban Prison.”
That seems like a tough job.
“In that job, you even start to crave the plague mask that physicians usually wear,” he added.
The plague mask he referred to was a large, crow-like mask with a beak-like protrusion. The long beak was used to hold herbs and perfumes to help mitigate the stench of the sick, who were overwhelmingly poor and lived in unsanitary conditions with a strong foul odor.
Thus, the plague mask was an essential item for physicians.
In contrast, healers who used healing magic did not wear such masks. They did not visit the homes of the poor, so they were less likely to suffer from unpleasant odors.
However, it was certain that healing magic, which required a high fee, worked effectively. On the other hand, the medicine of physicians, which required a reasonable fee, was hardly effective.
Nevertheless, people paid the physicians, even if it meant handing over all their possessions, just to have a glimmer of hope.
After all, the sad truth was that even if these people gave away all their possessions, they still wouldn’t have enough to afford the cost of a healer’s healing magic.
Upon arriving in the room, warden Blackberry instructed his secretary and Peter to leave the room.
“Mrs. Abbott, Mr. Barton and I will be leaving shortly, so we don’t need any tea,” he said.
The secretary, who exuded sexual appeal, was named Abbott. Once she closed the door, the warden spoke cheerfully.
“So, how’s Alban Prison?”
“It seems like quite a challenging job,” I replied.
The warden nodded solemnly, causing his double chin to jiggle.
“If I can offer one piece of advice, it’s to approach the prisoners with a firm attitude. Never let them disrespect you. And it’s strictly forbidden to get too involved with the prisoners. Keep an appropriate distance.”
“I will keep that in mind, sir,”
The warden, who had been nodding casually, changed his attitude a bit here.
“By the way, I want you to take on a special mission…” he trailed.
There was a slightly uneasy and guarded look on his face, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by a special mission for someone who had just arrived.
“Is there a reason why you’re asking me, a rookie, instead of an older guard?”
“Well, we have a rather special prisoner, you see… I trust that, given your upbringing, you won’t behave indecently towards the prisoner like your predecessors did.”
“I see…”
“To be honest, I want you to look after this certain prisoner, but please keep this confidential.”
“What kind of prisoner is it?”
“Well… the prisoner is known as Number 0… It would be quicker if you saw for yourself.”
Warden Blackberry straightened his fat body from his chair with great effort.
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