Three Years Have Passed

Dungeon of Death!

A place well-known to the world but seldom spoken of willingly.

Here, the most vicious and terrifying criminals are held, including the top ten globally wanted fugitives, who are considered the least dangerous here.

But who could have guessed that this Dungeon of Death, gathering all the major criminals globally, was specially constructed to imprison just one man?

Surrounded by the sea, this small island shimmers like a dazzling gem under the bright blue sky!

The very mention of the Dungeon of Death strikes terror into the hearts of people everywhere, chilling them to the bone. Once you enter the Dungeon of Death, forget about leaving alive!

At that moment, the surrounding sea churned with turbulent waves.

A military helicopter landed on a clearing outside the prison, and two people, clearly out of place in this grim setting, disembarked.

"Could you please bring Mr. Barton to us, Warden?"

The leader, an elderly man with white hair and leaning on a cane, spoke politely to the Warden who came to meet them.

But the woman next to him, dressed in a military uniform with two stars on her shoulder, frowned and said, "Mr. Bryant, we're here to interrogate a prisoner, isn't 'please' a bit too polite?!"

"How dare you!"

The man spoke sternly, "Hattie, you must not be reckless later, and you should respectfully address Mr. Barton!"

…

Inside a VIP suite in the prison.

What was supposed to be a prison cell was decorated like a hotel room, complete with a bathroom and a large bed. Calling this a prison might be a stretch; it looked more like a hotel with a prison theme.

"Sir, someone's here to interrogate you!"

The Warden scurried over, nodding his head eagerly in a manner that was far too subservient for meeting a prisoner. It was more like how a subordinate greets a boss, or a fan meeting a celebrity!

"Have some tea!"

"Thank you, sir!"

Soon, an old man and a young girl walked in. The old man, vigorous despite his age, leaned on a cane, showing no signs of frailty.

The young woman, dressed in a military uniform, exuded arrogance from every pore. She was tall, with her long hair pulled up, and by her looks alone, she could be considered a top-tier beauty.

This stunning beauty stood there, but the man in the white shirt didn't even look up.

"Gibby! Long time no see!" the old man slowly started.

This man, Gibson Barton, single-handedly faced the eight major organizations, forcing them to flee and defended the northern gate of Thyria for three years!

The woman looked him over, her eyes showing a trace of disappointment. Honestly, she didn't see the iron-willed aura expected of him; instead, he seemed rather frail.

"So, you're the legendary Mortal Demon, Gibson Barton. The guy who took down eight entire organizations by himself?"

She scrutinized him, finding that he didn't match the formidable image she had heard about. He seemed more like a mild scholar, merely adept with words—could this really be the legendary Mortal Demon?!

"Doesn't look like it, does it?!"

"You think you're the Mortal Demon? If you really were, would you be locked up here?!"

...

Warden, Gibson, and the old man exchanged glances and burst out laughing.

Hattie, one of the few female generals in the country, scowled and demanded in a low voice, "Mr. Bryant, what's so funny?!"

"He wasn't locked up here—he asked to come!" Mr. Bryant chuckled, leaning on his cane.

Even the Warden stood up and added, "Sir, if he wanted to leave, I doubt any prison on earth could hold him!"

"Let's cut to the chase, I need your help," Hattie said seriously, looking straight at him.

Gibson put down his brush, looked up slightly, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes. "Heh, you're ordering me?"

"You're a prisoner, aren't I supposed to order you?"

"You! Don't! Qualify!"

Those three words, filled with lethal intent, made even the Warden's hair stand on end.

Just then.

An alarm sounded outside, and the whole prison lit up with red lights.

"Warden, we've got trouble!"

"The Humanoid Butcher and the Skeleton King are fighting!"

"The Eight Eccentrics are trying to break out and have injured many of our men!"

"Nightmare just stole the prison keys and let all the prisoners out!"

...

The Warden, however, remained utterly calm and turned to look at Gibson, who was smoking.

"Sir, looks like we need your help again!"

Gibson rubbed his temples and muttered, "You really do have a lot of trouble here!"

Then, he handed his brush to a guard.

"Take this to The Humanoid Butcher and the Skeleton King. Dip it in ten meters of seawater for an hour to cool them down. If they don't behave, I'll go sort them out myself!"

"Take my written orders to the Eight Eccentrics, have all eight of them dig in the coal mine behind. If anyone digs less than a thousand kilos, they can hang their own heads on the wall!"

Looking around and seeing nothing else at hand, he passed his half-smoked cigarette, "Tell Nightmare, I hate prison breaks the most. If he's a man, let him come out the front door. I'll be waiting outside. If he's not brave enough, he can roll back to solitary!"

With just a few simple sentences, he commanded an air of authority that silenced everyone.

The guards bowed their heads, not daring to look him in the eye.

In just three minutes, all the alarms stopped.

Mr. Bryant and the Warden looked unfazed, but Hattie was astounded; just with those few items, he had managed to get all those prisoners under control!

Could this man really be the legendary Mortal Demon?!

 "Alright, go back to where you came from, I'm going to sleep!" Gibson waved off Mr. Bryant with a soft voice.

Mr. Bryant spoke seriously, "Barton, we came to ask for your help with something. Mr. One personally assigned this task, and you're the only one who can pull it off!"

"Heh, me?"

"We need you to save someone! A woman!"

"No way! These hands are made for killing, not saving!

"What if I told you it's related to your master's death? Still not interested?"

...

Gibson clearly hesitated for a few seconds without responding.

After a long pause—

Whoosh—!

He flicked his cigarette butt so hard that it embedded itself into the marble wall.

"You better not be joking! Otherwise, the consequences will be severe!" Gibson's voice was forcefully low and cold.

Then he strode towards the door.

The Warden followed behind and shouted, "The three-year term is up, Mr. Barton is released from prison!"

Watching his disappearing figure, Hattie narrowed her eyes and said in a low voice, "Can he really do it?

"Don't worry, if he can't handle it, I doubt anyone else can."

"Then why was he locked up here if he's so capable?"

"Because of a promise!"

"A promise? What kind of promise?"

"He promised his master he wouldn't enter Starfall City for three years! So he chose to lock himself up in the most dangerous place."

...