Chapter 19.3

From the hallway came a soft sigh before Mike stepped out, holding a gun. “Ivan understands you well, but I think he doesn’t understand you enough. You’re far more powerful than he imagined, really powerful. Tell me, how did you know all this? Who’s behind you?”

Mo Zimu gave a faint smile. “I’m not interested in being anyone’s dog.”

Mike sighed, his handsome face revealing a trace of frustration. “I truly don’t understand. Where did I slip up?”

Mo Zimu chuckled. “The logic is quite simple.”

Mike raised the gun toward him, smiling. “Let’s hear it.”

Mo Zimu stood, walking calmly toward the gun pointed at him, and smiled. “Because we’re different. Your world is here. My world is out there.”

Mike’s heart skipped a beat. Just then, he heard a noise behind him. He quickly turned, but it was too late. A sharp pain struck the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground, the gun flying from his hands.

A slim figure moved swiftly, and the handgun was now in their hands.

Tommy spoke matter-of-factly. “Norton’s old butler is in the kitchen. He’s already been knocked out.”

“Should we kill this doctor, Seven?” Tom smugly held the gun, pointing it at Mike lying on the ground.

Mo Zimu sighed lightly and smiled. “No need. Dr. Mike is decent at most things, though his artistic skills leave much to be desired.” He turned his head. “You’d be better off helping me find Boss Norton’s treasure. We’ve been here too long. Berrick’s going to get impatient.”

Norton slumped in his chair, paralyzed, watching as Tom brazenly searched his room. The vastness of the old castle and Norton’s scattered collection made it hard for Tom to figure out where to start.

Mo Zimu strolled down the long red-carpeted hallway connecting the front hall, main hall, and back hall. As he walked, he glanced at the human skins on display and suddenly chuckled.

“Uncle Norton is a true art lover… You need to think about where he would store his collection in a refined way. Look. This is Saint Bartholomew, who was flayed alive. Uncle’s favorite figure. See? He holds a knife in his right hand and carries his own skin in his left. Such a profound piece.” Mo Zimu smiled, glancing at Norton’s ashen face before casually adding, “Check that picture frame.”

Tom reached out and touched the frame. “Found it!” he said with a grin.

Mo Zimu looked at Norton’s drained face and smiled. “Boss, you were right. I do understand you quite well.”

Tom quickly disabled Norton’s security mechanism and retrieved the notebook from the hidden compartment in the frame, handing it to Mo Zimu.

Mo Zimu flipped through it, then leisurely tore out the last page. “Boss, you always said you were a man who finishes what he starts. As it happens, I’m the same. Let’s see this through.”

Jack hauled Norton up and, along with Mo Zimu, led him into the study at the back. Mo Zimu turned on the computer and ran the necessary programs. Once the command was sent, he stepped outside.

Berrick was pacing back and forth nervously. Mo Zimu whispered, “Boss wants a portable water tank. Go get one.”

Berrick hesitated. “Why does he need a water tank?”

Mo Zimu cast him a reproachful glance and then gestured backward. Berrick immediately signaled silence and left.

He soon returned, pushing a water tank as instructed. Mo Zimu motioned for him to stop at the door.

Still uneasy, Berrick hesitated and said, “Can I at least see boss?”

Mo Zimu replied, “No. He is busy. Do you want him to know you’re prying into his business?”

Berrick’s face twisted awkwardly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Seven, but after all, you’re a Mammon’s prisoner. I know Norton has an unconventional way of doing things, but…”

Mo Zimu took a deep breath. “Fine. Stand at the door, and I’ll let him know. But don’t come in. You know…”

“I won’t go in! I won’t!” Berrick quickly assured him.

Mo Zimu turned and walked back inside. Berrick saw that Tom, Jack, and Tommy were obediently standing not far from the door. As Mo Zimu’s footsteps faded, a cold voice came from inside.

“Berrick, do you want to join us for some dinner too?” Norton said icily.

“N-No, no, no… Boss, I’ve already eaten! No need, really, no need!” Berrick exhaled in relief.

Standing further inside, Tommy gave Mo Zimu a thumbs-up for his flawless impersonation. Norton, however, was livid, his face turning dark with fury, yet he was unable to say a word.

Mo Zimu smiled faintly. Mammon was indeed a peculiar place, full of peculiar lessons, and ventriloquism was just one of the many strange skills he’d picked up.

The computer beeped, and Mo Zimu took out Norton’s sleek satellite phone to retrieve the information. Then, right in front of Norton, he mimicked his voice and said, “Bring in the water tank!”

Tom answered with a quick “Got it!” before heading out to push the water tank inside. Berrick, by this point, wisely kept his mouth shut.

Mo Zimu tied up the limp Norton, gagged him, and stuffed him into the water tank along with several sets of unused police uniforms. Picking up a dining knife, he placed it in Norton’s bound hands and smiled. “Boss, you’ve always been good with dining knives. Let’s hope this time doesn’t disappoint.” Securing the lid on the water tanker, he added with a smirk, “Let’s go!”

“Don’t go! S… Seven!” Mike seemed to have regained consciousness and, with great effort, croaked, “Ivan asked me to protect you. If you leave, it’ll be dangerous!”

Mo Zimu chuckled softly. “Ivan is an excellent actor. He put on that loud performance outside your door just so I’d take you with me. Too bad you’re not. Your rainbow drawings only have six colors. Do you realize how much you’re avoiding looking Ivan in the eyes? It’s because the way you look at him shows something you’re trying to hide.” He sighed. “Sorry, your tragic act makes me want to laugh.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Mo Zimu knocked Mike out again.

Berrick saw them pushing the water tank out and hurried to follow. Mo Zimu hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Boss, you take over and push it.”

Berrick was both shocked and delighted. He quickly grabbed the handle and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that after tonight, everything was going to change.

Tom trailed behind, his heart pounding so hard it felt ready to leap from his chest, yet he couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

He had never imagined breaking out of prison like this, watching a prison guard practically escort the warden out as if it were some grand occasion. The absurdity of it all was almost laughable. And to top it off, the prison guard looked like he was cherishing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It was so ridiculous that the whole scene felt like a dark comedy.

Then suddenly—

“Seven!”

A voice rang out from behind them.

Tom turned his head and nearly had a heart attack. Adolf was standing about fifty meters away.

He clearly heard the sharp intakes of breath from the two beside him. Adolf crooked a finger at them. “Come here for a second.”

Mo Zimu’s composure calmed their frayed nerves slightly. Turning back, he said in a low voice, “I’ll see what he wants,” and walked toward Adolf.

Tom watched as Adolf whispered something to Mo Zimu before leading him away, prompting him to exclaim, “Do you think Adolf’s figured something out?!”

The moment those words left his mouth, Berrick and Tommy’s faces both changed.

Adolf led Mo Zimu toward the storage warehouse, speaking as they walked. “Seven, you’ve been getting quite bold, huh? Last time, you smuggled out 17 or 18 lanterns. What are you bringing this time?”

“Rats,” Mo Zimu said with a grin.

Adolf frowned briefly before exhaling deeply. “You’re certainly creative. So, Seven, I imagine you’re confident about coming back unscratched, aren’t you?”

“I hope so.”

“No, no, you’ll definitely return. Unfortunately, I can’t let that happen.”

He shoved Mo Zimu into the storeroom. Inside stood two people. Teabag… and a long-lost acquaintance, Jude.

His left eye was covered with a black eyepatch, adding a sinister edge to his once-handsome face.

Mo Zimu’s expression darkened. He hadn’t seen this coming at all.

Adolf grinned, his wide mouth splitting his face. “Teabag, he’s all yours.”

Teabag flipped out a sharp knife, its blade gleaming under the dim warehouse light. Mo Zimu instinctively took a step back, but Adolf was already behind him, locking the door.

The dim storeroom light stretched Teabag’s short figure into a long, eerie shadow. Behind him, Jude stood silently, his golden hair glowing under the dull light, the black eyepatch making his glare even more chilling.

“I feel quite regretful. To be honest, I’ve seen many beauties, but few reach your level. Graceful beauties are indeed rare. But what can I say? I’m a loyal person. Since my partner despises you, I have to make him happy…”

Teabag edged closer and closer, leaving Mo Zimu with nowhere to retreat. Even someone as intelligent and composed as him couldn’t stop the cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Teabag lunged.

But his blade never reached Mo Zi Mu.

Instead, he let out a sharp scream and collapsed forward.

Jude stepped onto his back, his single eye filled with pure hatred.

A knife was buried deep in Teabag’s spine. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to speak. He gasped a few times, then fell silent forever.

Mo Zimu stared at the sudden turn of events, momentarily at a loss for words.

Jude lifted his head. His lips were a little pale as he said, “Seven, did I just save you again?”

Mo Zimu took a deep breath. “What do you want?”

“I know you’re escaping tonight. Take me with you.”

Mo Zimu knew that this Jude was no longer the timid, naive boy from before. He was like a caterpillar that had gone through Mammon’s baptism, not emerging as a butterfly, but transforming into a serpent.

“Adolf is still outside,” Mo Zimu replied calmly.

“Then we kill him too!” A fierce killing intent flickered in Jude’s gaze.

Mo Zimu exhaled deeply. “Go out and talk to him. Get close. When I open the door and step out, it will distract him. Use that moment to slit his throat, make it a clean kill.”

Jude chuckled softly and stepped forward. Mo Zimu instinctively shifted away, not wanting to get too close to him. But Jude closed the distance anyway and whispered, “Seven, see? Everyone harbors a devil inside. Don’t tell me you’re still as pure as you were before. Your plan to kill is brilliant, just like everything you do. Seemingly complex and difficult, yet simple and effective.”

He pulled open the door and stepped out. “Adolf, Teabag wants to know what to do with the body,” he called out.

“Dead already?” Adolf asked.

“Dead as can be,” Jude replied.

“What a pity!”

Mo Zimu knew it was time. He pulled the door open with a smile. “What’s there to pity, Boss?”

Adolf’s surprise barely registered before Jude’s knife flashed toward him. Almost instinctively, he raised his baton, blocking the blade just in time. It struck the baton instead of his throat, far from the plan.

“You’re still alive?!” Adolf staggered back in shock, then struck out with his baton, knocking the knife from Jude’s grip. “I have to admit, you’ve got some skill. But too bad today is your death anniversary!” He swung his baton while his other hand reached for the gun at his waist.

Before he could draw, a dull thud echoed through the room. Adolf collapsed to the ground. Behind him, Berrick stood panting, gripping his baton tightly.

Mo Zimu let out a slow breath, his voice hoarse. “Thanks, Berrick. I owe you one.”

Berrick, still catching up to the weight of his actions, swore under his breath. “Shit… What do we do with these two?”

Mo Zimu exhaled deeply. “Adolf can’t die in the prison. If he do, Boss Norton will suspect us.”

Berrick immediately nodded. “Right, right!”

“Take him to the forest outside. Let Mammon’s wolves deal with him,” Mo Zimu gritted out.

A strange smile flickered across Jude’s single eye. Part mocking, part resigned.

Berrick, however, seemed delighted. “Good idea!”

Mo Zimu bound Jude’s hands. The latter put up a half-hearted struggle before Berrick snapped at him. “Try anything, and I’ll shoot you right here. I’ll just say you tried to escape and killed Adolf!” Jude fell still, allowing Mo Zimu to tie him up and push him forward.

Berrick, unwilling to put Adolf in the same water tanker as Geoffrey’s package, shoved the unconscious Adolf beneath the cart. Mo Zimu kept a firm grip on Jude.

And so, Berrick opened the prison gates, pushing two colleagues ahead and leading five inmates determined to escape. Together, they stepped out of Mammon prison into the night.