Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
There's Absolutely No Problem With The Magic Cards I Made!
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Loser System and Berserker Me
Nightmare Assault
Everlasting Immortal Firmament
My Iyashikei Game
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 268: Newborn
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 190: Suspect
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1073- Gene Corruption
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 897: Hesitation
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 301 - If Anyone Dares To Spout Nonsense, Beat Them Up
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1072- Difficult to split
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 664 - The Evil God Beyond the Door
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 569: Rainy
Loser System and Berserker Me
Chapter 210: Deer Girl
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 189: Good People
Horror Game Designer
Chapter 267: Correction
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1071- Seen
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 896: Departure
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 1070- Two secrets
The Defeated Saintess Is On A Journey To Tame The Evil God
Book 01 Chapter 07.10.2 - Red Epiphyllum
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 300 - Apologies To Everyone; Level 37 Godly General
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 663 - The Captured Mastermind
I, The Dragon Overlord
Chapter 662 - The Decline of a Nation
"Come out, Garcia Greene."
Through the unlocked wooden door, Finley called out loudly.
Greene, not daring to delay, clumsily ran out of his cell, dragging the chains locked around his ankles.
He was one of the twenty-six inmates similarly summoned to the corridor. The dim light from the wall-mounted oil lamps cast shadows on their faces—all were bald and beardless, dressed in identical round-necked tunics and knee-length trousers, their cheeks swollen, faces pale, dragging slightly long iron chains.
Greene knew he looked just like the rest of them.
After counting the inmates and confirming everyone was present, Finley handed them buckets and large pieces of ragged cloth, gesturing for them to get moving.
The twenty-seven men, including Garcia Greene, hurried to the only water source at the end of the corridor, carrying the buckets and rags. The militia had installed a water pump, drawing groundwater to the faucets on each floor, making it convenient for the inmates to fetch water nearby.
After lining up at the faucet to collect water, the inmates energetically began cleaning every area—corridors, toilets, empty or occupied cells, and more. All of them, once living luxuriously and unaccustomed to such menial work, had adapted. Repeated tasks led to proficiency, even for the unwilling.
Amid the clanking of chains, the twenty-seven prisoners managed to scrub the entire basement level spotless in just over half an hour.
Finley, who had been standing at the end of the corridor, conducted a random inspection of several cells and checked his pocket watch. Nodding in approval, he stated indifferently, "Completed 20 minutes ahead of schedule. You'll get extra food today."
Like the others, Greene, standing obediently against the wall, involuntarily swallowed at the mention of extra food.
When Finley brought down two buckets of food, none of the prisoners squabbled or fought over it. They all patiently waited to receive their share, sat cross-legged in two rows against the wall, and devoured their meals. They even
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Checkout my other novels:
I'm Really Not The Demon God's Lackey
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin