Sir! Don't close the net!

"Sorry, that won't do—"

Mamaka pulled back forcefully, leaving only half of his head exposed.

"That guy might have connections; I don't dare help him with this."

"Huh? How did you figure out he's got connections?" Rebecca bared her sharp canines.

“I remember now!” Mamaka raised his voice. “I’ve seen this guy before!”

"He wasn't this strong before! The relics they've been excavating recently might all be for him!"

Chapter Sixteen: I Also Want to Believe in the King in Yellow

"A person with connections?"

Rebecca hesitated for a moment.

“That’s right! He’s definitely someone with connections! Two months ago, this kid wasn’t even in Theresa’s prison,” Mamaka said immediately when Rebecca hesitated. “Then a few days ago, about seven or eight days ago, I saw him on patrol, but at that time he was very weak, as weak as an ordinary person!”

Mamaka paused for a moment, then shrank back into his cell.

“Just now, he didn’t seem like an ordinary person at all.”

Rebecca leaned down and growled in annoyance.

"Your yelling at me won't do any good..."

"cut--"

Rebecca looked down at her paws.

Despite her displeasure, Rebecca knew that the strength and speed she had just experienced were beyond the capabilities of an ordinary person, and the sensation of the claws...

It doesn't resemble a human at all; you could only say it's close to one.

Of course, it was mainly her pride that was at play. She would rather have banged her head against a wall than admit that she had been strangled unconscious by a weak human.

Seeing that Rebecca wasn't as angry as before, Mamaka breathed a sigh of relief. "It's probably some big shot who's using this opportunity to sneak in as a jailer and absorb those unregistered assets. Let's talk about the King in Yellow."

Mamaka knew that with Rebecca's stubborn personality, the more he emphasized to Rebecca that the other party was not to be messed with, the more Rebecca would disregard the consequences and do the opposite, and might even impulsively attack that person with connections.

If Rebecca really attacks, he will definitely be implicated, so the best way is to divert Rebecca's anger.

"Hmph—what are you thinking?" Rebecca licked...

Remove the blood from the palm.

Besides the nosebleed, there was an unfamiliar smell, a very special smell, but one that was all too common in this Teresa Prison.

Rebecca's slender eyes narrowed slightly.

It smells like life is decaying.

“Well…” Mamaka’s eyes flickered, “The King in Yellow is on the top floor, but as you know, we can’t go up there, so I thought we could have the other prisoners on that floor lure the King in Yellow to our floor.”

“What a terrible plan,” Rebecca grinned coldly. “Are you serious? Are you going to be led to the basement by the other prisoners on your floor?”

Mamaka stiffened and cautiously shrank back.

Obviously not.

"Hmph—coward, but it's the only solution we can think of right now."

Rebecca glanced at the stairs, then impatiently opened her palm, her sharp claws extending out.

This is the maximum floor she can reach. If she goes any higher, she will violate the absolute ironclad rules of Teresa Prison. Just like an honest person who loses their temper is unstoppable, Teresa Prison, which usually turns a blind eye to their various violations, might really have to experience what hell is like when they finally unleash their fury...

Rebecca flicked her tail in frustration, turned around, and walked down the stairs.

Mamaka peeked out, cursed inwardly, then crawled out of the cell, raised its tail, and banged heavily on the handrail. The crisp sound echoed in the silent corridor, and soon more knocking sounds began, carrying up to the upper floors.

They may not be able to go to the top floor of the prison, but that doesn't mean they can't contact the top-floor prison and get the inmates there to come down on their own.

As long as a specific sound is created in this way...

Mamaka coiled up, tapping the armrest with the tip of his tail at a leisurely pace. Soon, a series of hurried footsteps followed the tapping sound.

“Mr. Ma, Mr. Mamaka!” Simon rushed down the stairs, panting.

Prisoners on floors that were normally beyond our control will simply come down.

Mamaka's mantis-like head split open into a ferocious crescent moon.

"Hey—Simon~ Don't be nervous, it's not time yet, this is something else," Mamaka said, forcing back the urge to cut off Simon's arm, and gave what he thought was a very kind smile.

"It's about the King in Yellow. Actually... last night the King in Yellow appeared in front of my cell. Ah~ what a terrifying yet alluring figure. I have never seen such a sacred yet blasphemous figure."

Gajek, who was hiding behind Simon, subconsciously frowned.

He had the privilege of witnessing the King in Yellow's figure, and indeed, as Mamaka had said, he was both sacred and blasphemous, but there was not a trace of respect in Mamaka's voice.

"Mr. Mamaka, you've seen the King in Yellow too!" Simon looked at Mamaka with some nervousness.

“That’s right. I heard you’ve been offering tributes to the King in Yellow every day?” Mamaka silently leaned out, surrounding Simon in circles, gradually closing in. “Can I join you?”

Gajek was stunned, looking at Mamaka with an incredulous expression.

Simon was stunned for a moment before he reacted, his face full of disbelief. "Mr. Mamaka, are you... sure?"

“Of course, Simon, do I need to remind you? To survive in this Teresa Prison…” Mamaka leaned close to Simon’s ear and opened his menacing jaw, “you need faith.”

Although he knew that Mamaka wouldn't care about or even notice him, Gajek still subconsciously turned his face away to prevent Mamaka from seeing his disdainful expression.

What kind of bullshit faith is this? It's nothing more than exploitation and selection, which is just a nicer way of saying it.

If these prisoners on higher floors didn't "believe" in the prisoners on lower floors, they would be killed as soon as they went downstairs. Even if they stayed on their own floors, other prisoners would submit to these lower-floor prisoners, and they still wouldn't survive. Therefore, they had no choice but to "believe" in these lower-floor prisoners.

But now Mamaka says he wants to worship the King in Yellow.

Ghosts believe.

“But I can’t go to your floor, and I can’t place the offerings in front of the King in Yellow’s door like you do. If possible, I don’t want the King in Yellow to waste his precious time on me,” Mamaka shook his head from side to side. “So I was thinking, how about we find another place…”

Mamaka narrowed his eyes slightly.

“A place where even low-ranking prisoners like us can place offerings.”

“This…” Simon hesitated.

“Of course, since everyone believes in the King in Yellow, Simon, you don’t need to offer me your flesh and blood anymore,” Mamaka quickly scurried back into his cell and tossed Simon a package that was a size larger than the one he had given Simon before. “Offer your flesh and blood to the King in Yellow.”

Mamaka grinned.

Simon looked at the heavy package in his hands, hesitating whether or not he should agree, but Gajek, who had been hiding behind Simon, spoke up.

"Simon, agree."

Chapter Seventeen: Theresa's Happiness in Prison

An ominous premonition.

Li Yili, who was digging in the soil, felt a chill down her spine. She pulled out the balance scale buried in the soil, stood up, and looked around.

A viscous, petroleum-like liquid seeped from the surrounding cracks in the mud.

"Ah...we've struck oil! How lucky!"

"Guwu"

"Waaah—"

A gaunt, strange dog with six hollow, eye-like holes rose from the viscous liquid.

"What the hell—"

Li Yili tossed the scales in her hand and swung them at the moment the monster dog pounced. The golden scales slammed heavily into the monster dog's face, and its viscous head instantly sank into its emaciated body. As the visible red spread, the monster dog's body suddenly swelled up like a balloon.

"boom--"

With a muffled popping sound, viscous liquid splattered out.

Li Yili raised his hand to wipe the liquid that had splashed on his face. Although he didn't know the principle behind it, these strange dogs didn't leave any corpses, leaving no trace as if they had never existed. So even if the strange dogs' liquid splashed on him, he was too lazy to clean it up, since it would disappear in a while anyway.

"Ha... how long have you been in this Theresa Prison?"

Li Yili tossed the scales in her hand and casually found a place to sit down. Holding the scales in her left hand and resting her chin on her right, she looked at the statue in the distance, its body tilted and stuck in the mud. The bold and free style reminded Li Yili of Greek statues.

Although half of her body was covered in mud, he could still tell that she was a very explosive goddess.

“The scales… well, it doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all fakes,” Li Yili grinned, turned around and pinched the soil, her smile gradually fading. “Even at this depth, it’s still a reset temple, damn it—how many times have we come here?”

Li Yili raised her hand, somewhat annoyed, as if to throw the scales away, but then gave up the idea when she realized she would have to pick them up again.

“That werewolf… is a member of the Yellow Robes. The Yellow Robes’ assigned area… shouldn’t be there.”

Li Yili frowned slightly.

The Yellow-Clad Clan was the most prominent of the many forces he was wary of in Theresa Prison.

There's no particular reason. He's the King in Yellow now. If he were a member of the Yellow Clan, he'd be very unhappy too. He wouldn't have to worry if he were outside. The title "Yellow Clan" only came about after Bishop Azavet had his case heard and imprisoned in Theresa Prison. Surely no Yellow Clan member would break out of prison to cause him trouble just because they're unhappy.

Unfortunately, he is currently in Teresa Prison.

Li Yili found it hard to reconcile the werewolf's menacing demeanor with the fact that he was offering his loyalty to the King in Yellow.

“But they didn’t go directly to my floor… I see. Hmph—this Teresa Prison isn’t without rules after all,” Li Yili frowned. “Prisoners can only go to floors lower than their own but which hold prisoners who are stronger, more ferocious, and more evil than themselves. No… they can go to higher floors, but there are floor restrictions. The Yellow-Clad Clan can’t reach the top floor. No wonder no one has come to cause trouble for so many days.”

This is good news, but it's clear that the Yellow-Clad Clan won't give up so easily.

No matter how perfect a rule may be, as long as there are implementers and beneficiaries, there will inevitably be flaws.

The appearance of that werewolf can be interpreted in two ways: optimistically, it means the other side is looking for a loophole; realistically, it means the other side has already found a loophole and is ready to implement it. At the very least, he himself has already figured out a way to break the ironclad rule.

For example, making high-ranking prisoners their own limbs, preventing them from reaching the top.

Fortunately, he, the King in Yellow, was no longer in the top-floor cell. Even in the gray hour, he would not hide in his cell but in a pile of rotting corpses.

The only problem that shouldn't be considered a problem is... if we can't find him, the King in Yellow, the lives of those prisoners at the bottom of the food chain living in the upper levels will probably become very difficult.

The prisoners didn't want to help him; they were simply intimidated by him and treated him like one of the lowest-ranking criminals. He never asked them to do so.

Although he wanted to shout "What's it to me?", he had indeed been surviving on the offerings from the prisoners for the past few days.

"It all depends on what I think...do you mean?"

Li Yili sighed deeply, her forehead rubbing, as the words of psychiatrist Jeff echoed in her ears once more.

Don't go crazy in your own world.