Douluo Continent: The Twin Sons of the Styx River, Shaking the World and Destroying the Heavens

Chapter 236 Afterwards
As they walked further, a massive golden gate gradually came into view at the end of the passage. The gate was engraved with intricate soul-guiding runes, which shimmered with a faint golden light and exuded an aura of majesty and solemnity.

"No need to go any further," the escorting soldier said in a deep voice, stopping in his tracks.

Tang Wutong stood before the enormous golden gate as instructed, the heavy shackles making her slightly breathless.

Looking up, the golden light flowing over the door was so bright that she could hardly open her eyes, and the doubts in her heart grew stronger—what was hidden behind this door?
"Go kneel over there." The soldier pointed to a corner by the door, his tone icy and uncompromising.

Tang Wutong suddenly looked up, a flash of humiliated anger in her eyes, and retorted with her neck stiff: "Why? I am a princess of the divine realm and the young sect master of Haotian Sect. How could I kneel before you mortals!" As soon as she finished speaking, a soldier raised his foot without any politeness and kicked Tang Wutong hard in the buttocks.

"Ugh!" Caught off guard, she was already unsteady due to being bound by shackles, and now she fell forward, her knees hitting the cold metal ground with a dull thud.

A sharp pain shot through her knees and hips simultaneously, and a wave of humiliation overwhelmed her. She gritted her teeth and tried to sit up, but another soldier held her down by the shoulder, pinning her to the spot, unable to move.

"Alright, Lao Wang, get it done for her. Let's finish our job and not get angry over someone like this," another soldier advised, his tone full of impatience.

"You're right." The soldier called Old Wang snorted and withdrew his foot.

The two men grabbed Tang Wutong, who was still struggling, and dragged her to the corner they had just designated, ignoring her resistance. The heavy shackles screeched as they dragged her, and her skirt was torn in several places by the ground. The pain in her knees, mixed with the humiliation in her heart, made her grit her teeth.

Ignoring Tang Wutong's struggles, the two took out a heavy metal ring, fastened it to her waist with a "click," and then took out a seal engraved with runes, pressing it heavily against her chest.

The cold touch had barely faded when a clear mark was left on my chest, accompanied by a faint burning sensation.

“Prisoner number 9527,” one of them said coldly. “Someone will come to take you away in a moment. Stay here quietly.”

After speaking, the two turned and left. The heavy golden door slowly closed behind them, leaving Tang Wutong alone in the empty space. The ring around her waist and the mark on her chest were like invisible shackles, constantly reminding her of her current identity—no longer the high and mighty young sect leader, but merely a prisoner numbered 9527.

"Come back!" Tang Wutong shouted sharply in the direction the two had left, her voice trembling slightly with anger. The mark on her chest was still burning, and the heavy ring around her waist was a constant reminder of the humiliation she had suffered.

Time passed quickly, and just as Tang Wutong was filled with humiliation and resentment, the golden gate slowly opened again.

A figure appeared in the doorway. Tang Wutong looked up and her eyes widened instantly, her face filled with disbelief. She exclaimed in a trembling voice, "Ju Zi?"

How could it be her? The Crown Prince of the Sun Moon Empire, who once had countless connections with Huo Yuhao, is now appearing in the underground prison of St. Freya Academy, and she's here to see her? Countless questions flooded Tang Wutong's mind, making her momentarily forget her predicament.

"Tang Wutong, long time no see." Ju Zi stood at the door with a meaningful smile on her face, her gaze fixed on the heavy soul-guided shackles on her body, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

Tang Wutong stared intently at her, her voice trembling with shock: "You were reborn too?"

"What are you doing here?" Tang Wutong asked through gritted teeth, her eyes full of vigilance.

"What are you doing?" Orange chuckled lightly, slowly walking up to her. Her gaze swept over the clear mark on her chest, her tone tinged with a hint of mockery. "From today onwards, you are my prisoner—right, 9527?"

The number "9527" pierced Tang Wutong's heart like a needle. She looked up sharply, glaring at Ju Zi: "Don't even think about it! I am..."

"You are a princess of the divine realm, the young sect master of the Haotian Sect?" Ju Zi interrupted her, her smile widening. "But so what? Right now, you are nothing more than a prisoner locked up here. From today onwards, your life, death, honor, and disgrace are all in my hands."

As soon as she finished speaking, she raised her hand and gently patted the mark on Tang Wutong's face, her icy fingertips carrying an undeniable sense of pressure.

"Now write down with me what your sentence here is." Orange took out a roll of parchment and a quill pen from her sleeve. Her tone was as calm as if she were handling a routine official business, but her gaze remained fixed on Tang Wutong, with a scrutinizing look.

Tang Wutong pursed her lips, turned her head away, unwilling to pay attention. The mark on her chest seemed to be burning faintly again, reminding her that she had no right to bargain at this moment.

Ju Zi didn't urge him, but simply tapped her pen lightly on the paper, making a crisp sound: "Think it through before you speak, after all, the length of the sentence isn't fixed."

"I'll go with you." Tang Wutong took a deep breath, suppressing the humiliation in her heart, her voice trembling slightly. At this point, resistance seemed futile.

Upon hearing this, Ju Zi's smile deepened, carrying a hint of triumph: "That's right, my Miss Tang." She deliberately emphasized the words "Tang family," as if to remind someone of something.

After saying that, she turned around and gestured with her chin toward the door: "Let's go, don't make me rush you a second time."

Tang Wutong bit her lower lip, dragging the heavy shackles, and followed behind her step by step. The sound of the metal rings scraping against the ground was particularly clear in the empty space, like a heavy hammer striking her heart.

The two entered a room slightly larger than the previous isolation room. In the center was a uniquely designed chair—its metal frame was covered with movable latches, and its seat, armrests, and even backrest were inlaid with soul-guiding devices that shimmered with light. It was clearly a restraint chair designed specifically to fix a human body.

The cold metallic luster gleamed under the light, sending chills down your spine just by looking at it.

Orange pointed to the chair, her tone as relaxed as if inviting a guest to sit down: "Sit down, the next steps require a proper posture." Tang Wutong stopped in her tracks, looking at the chair with a hint of resistance in her eyes.

She knew perfectly well what this thing was for; once she sat on it, she probably wouldn't even have a chance to struggle anymore. Tang Wutong gritted her teeth and slowly sat down on the restraint chair. The moment her touch touched the cold chair surface, the metal buckles on both sides clicked open automatically, precisely locking her wrists and ankles, firmly fixing her to the chair.

The bracelets and anklets she had worn previously interacted with the chair's latches, generating a subtle suction that made it difficult for her to even move her fingertips. The collar around her neck also tightened, carrying a familiar electric current, completely sealing off any possibility of her using her soul power.

She could clearly hear the subtle sounds of the soul-guiding device operating inside the chair, like an invisible net that trapped her completely.

Orange opened her notebook, her pen hovering over the page. Her gaze fell on Tang Wutong's firmly fixed figure, and her tone returned to its previous calm: "Then let's begin. Name."

"Tang Wutong".

"gender."

"Don't you already know?" Tang Wutong frowned, her tone full of impatience.

"This is a necessary procedure." Orange wrote in her notebook with her head down, repeating without looking up, "Gender."

“You…” Tang Wutong bit her lower lip, finally suppressing her anger, and stiffly uttered a single word, “woman.”

"age."

"twenty one."

The scratching sound of Orange's pen nib across the paper was exceptionally clear in the quiet room. Each question felt like a dull knife cutting into flesh, grinding away at Tang Wutong's last shred of dignity. Looking at Orange's profile as she focused on taking notes, she felt a sense of powerlessness spreading from the depths of her heart.

Ju Zi closed her notebook, stood up, said "Wait a minute," and turned to leave the room. The heavy metal door closed again, leaving Tang Wutong alone in the restraint chair.

Half an hour felt exceptionally long in the silence and confinement. Tang Wutong tried to mobilize her soul power, but only received stronger electric suppression from the collar and buckles. The numbness spread through her limbs, making her increasingly anxious.

"Click——"

The door opened, and Ju Zi walked in. Ju Zi took out a photo from her pocket and gently placed it in front of Tang Wutong.

The photo shows her not long ago, with a hint of pride in her eyes. But now it is printed on rough paper, with words written in ink next to it—name, gender, age, and even charges such as "suspected of endangering the safety of St. Freya Academy" and "illegal murder" are clearly listed.

"Did you see it clearly?" Orange pointed to the charges on the photo with her fingertip. "These will be entered into your prison file. From today onwards, '9527' will be your new identity."

Tang Wutong's gaze swept over the glaring words, her chest felt like it was blocked by something, and even her breathing felt sluggish: "If you want to condemn someone, you can always find a reason!"

"Whether it's a fabricated charge or not is unimportant." Orange put away the photos and picked up her notebook again. "What's important is that from now on, this is your entire definition."

Ju Zi pressed the button on the side of the restraint chair, and the locks popped open with a few clicks. The moment the restraints were suddenly released, Tang Wutong's hands and feet went numb from being immobilized for so long, and she staggered before regaining her balance.

"Get up and take this photo." Orange handed over the paper with her image and the charge against her, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Tang Wutong stared at the photo, her fingertips trembling slightly, but she finally gritted her teeth and took it. The rough edges of the paper hurt her palms, just like those cold accusations, burning fiercely into her heart.

"Stand over there by the blue cloth." Orange gestured with her chin to the corner of the room—where a blue curtain, about half a person's height, stood with some dust on the edges, clearly a temporary setup.

Tang Wutong gripped the photo tightly, her fingertips turning white from the pressure. She glanced at the blue cloth, then at the orange, and finally moved forward. The heavy shackles dragged on the ground with a harsh sound, each step feeling like a trampling on her own dignity.

Standing in front of the blue cloth, she could feel Ju Zi picking up something, seemingly adjusting the angle towards her—was she going to take a picture? The thought had barely crossed her mind when she forcefully suppressed it, leaving only a heart full of humiliation and resentment.

On the desolate border of the Douling Empire, a fierce wind howled, whipping up sand and gravel. Suddenly, without warning, a dark blue crack appeared in mid-air, with tiny sparks of electricity crackling at its edges. A surge of immense soul power instantly swept across the surroundings, flattening the withered grass on the ground.

A blue figure stepped out of the crack, landing with a gentle breeze. He wore a long robe with blue and silver grass patterns, his dark hair was lifted by the wind, revealing a handsome face covered with frost—it was Tang San.

Tang San raised his hand and touched his brow, his divine sense spreading out like a spider web, instantly covering the entire Douluo Continent.

"It seems the anomaly is here," he murmured, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable air of authority.

(End of this chapter)