Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chaotic Sword God
Apocalypse Gacha
Martial Cultivator
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Swear Fealty To Me, My Subjects!
Loser System and Berserker Me
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Everlasting Immortal Firmament
Nightmare Assault
The Defeated Saintess Is On A Journey To Tame The Evil God
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 491: Started Fighting
Loser System and Berserker Me
Chapter 137: Wave of Death
My Iyashikei Game
Chapter 976: Special Nightmares
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 922- female face
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 104: Limit
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 921- Professor He who isn't human
Reincarnation of the Strongest Sword God - Side Stories
Chapter 988 - Flame God Set
Aspiring to the Immortal Path
Chapter 841: Giving Up
Necromancer: I Am A Disaster
Chapter 233 - Step Back, Or You'll Get Caught In The Crossfire
Everlasting Immortal Firmament
Book 08 Chapter 112: The Purpose of the United Rule Meet
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin
Chapter 47: Can You Share Some Of The Good Stuff?
My Iyashikei Game
Chapter 975: Special Nightmares
Martial Cultivator
Chapter 490.2: The Two Brilliant Women - Part 2
Loser System and Berserker Me
Chapter 136: Destroying the Soldiers in Ambush
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 920- Job
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 919.5- Taste (2)
Apocalypse Gacha
Chapter 829.5- For victory (2)
Nightmare Assault
Chapter 103: Key
"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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I'm Really Not The Demon God's Lackey
The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin