The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 81. Psycho vs Psycho

Chapter 81: 81. Psycho vs Psycho

In a dark, narrow passage, the air reeked of sweat, blood, and despair. A strikingly handsome man walks through, wearing white dress. His shoulder-length brown hair swayed, and his amber eyes cold as they scanned the prison cells.

From the packed prison cells, skeletal hands clawed through rusted bars. "Mercy, please!" "I’m starving!" "Let me out!" Slaves and outcasts, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow, pressed against the bars, each cell stuffed with fifteen to twenty bodies.

Their wails grew deafening, grating on his nerves. He halted, his voice a roar. "Silence!"

The prisoners recoiled, collapsing against the walls, their screams choked into whimpers. Fear silenced them, their trembling eyes fixed on the man as if he were death itself. He exhaled sharply, and resumed his walk.

He opens a heavy iron door, its screech echoing into a grim chamber.

Sylo, a breathtaking woman with raven hair and storm-gray eyes, stood with an air of quiet menace. Beside her was the warden, a grizzled brute man. At the room’s edge, three prisoners knelt, tied in chains. A woman, her face a swollen mess of bruises, sobbed uncontrollably, tears mixing with blood. Two men, foreigners with battered but defiant faces, glared up. They faced Draeven, the Pillar of Treachery.

Draeven’s voice was silk over steel. "What’s the situation?"

Sylo said. "The woman was our benefactor. But someone hijacked her identity to infiltrate our meeting yesterday."

Draeven’s amber eyes pinned the woman, who shrank under his stare, her voice a desperate wail. "I swear, I don’t know who did it! Please, have mercy!" Her scream echoes in the closed room.

"Shut up!" Draeven’s shout, and she choked on her sobs, trembling so violently she nearly collapsed.

He turned to the men, noting their chiseled builds. "And these two?"

The warden’s voice was rough. "Caught them trying to break into the prison. Guards spotted them. We interrogated, but they’re Silent."

Draeven crouched, his face inches from theirs, intrigued by their fearless glares. A twisted smile curled his lips. "Who are you?"

Silence.

"What country sent you? Why are you here?"

More silence.

He sighed, massaging his temples. "Answer now, or I start with her." He jerked his head toward the woman, who whimpered.

One man smirked, spitting out, "Suck my dick, pretty boy."

Draeven’s smile turned psychotic. In a flash, he took two machetes from the table, and with a savage roar, he hacked into the man, blood spraying liek fountain. He didn’t stop—slashing, carving, butchering, reducing the man to a pile of mangled flesh and splintered bone.

The walls turned red, the floor a slick pool of gore. The second man shook violently, urine soaking his pants, his eyes wide with horror. The woman’s screams pierced the air, raw and unhinged, as Draeven’s white dress turned a deep red colour.

Gasping, Draeven stepped back, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his blades. He pressed a machete to the second man’s throat, who broke instantly, sobbing. "I’ll talk! Please, don’t kill me!"

Draeven leaned in, his blood soaked face inches away. "Too late." He unleashed the same brutal slaughter, hacking the man apart in violence, flesh and bone scattering like debris. The woman’s screams reached a fever pitch, her body convulsing in terror. When it was done, Draeven stood amid the carnage, his robes soaked, his breath ragged.

Sylo handed him a towel, her grin wicked and unfazed. The warden, green with nausea, forced himself to stay upright. "Why kill them without answers?" he asked.

Draeven wiped blood from his face, his voice cold. "Zarethune nation investigators, investigating missing people. Find the idiot who let them get this far."

Sylo’s voice cut through. "You have a direct order from the Lord Priest."

Draeven’s eyes flashed. "The Ruler?"

She nodded, handing him a dark guild bounty paper. Leonhardt Caulem’s face, his name in bold. Draeven’s grin widened as he dipped a finger in the blood at his feet, painting a jagged, smiling mouth across the portrait.

Sylo informed him. "Dark guilds blacklisted this job. Calling him a psycho."

He chuckled, low and unhinged. "Psycho, huh? Let’s see."

The warden glanced at the woman, now a sobbing wreck. "What about her?"

Draeven’s smile was pure madness. "She’s useless, she doesn’t know who didit. Throw her in the all-male cell. Let them have her."

____

In the early morning at the academy gym, the silence was broken only by the rhythmic creak of the pull-up bar. Leo’s sleeveless shirt soaked with sweat, wristbands straining against his forearms. Sweat dripped onto the floor.

Nimbus sprawled lazily across a nearby weight bench, napping without a care. Then, soft footsteps echoed behind him. Leo released the bar mid-rep, landing lightly on his feet.

He grabbed a towel, wiping his face as he turned. "Why’re you here, Erin Dranemount? Pretty sure the academy’s on vacation." His voice was low, edged with suspicion.

Erin stood there, dressed in elegant civilian clothes, every inch the polished noble lady. she’s looking at him with her usual cryptic smile. "I’ve got business," she said casually, then tilted her head. "Oh, and I heard you killed that captive. You know how hard it was to capture her?"

Leo’s eyes narrowed. "That’s all you came to say?"

She stepped closer, her smile unwavering. "Anything you want to ask?"

In a flash, Leo threw the towel at her face, blocking her view. His hand shot forward, a hunting knife shines as it stopped inches from her throat. Erin reacted just in time, her delicate fingers gripping his wrist, trembling under the effort to hold him back. One slip, and the blade would bite.

Her smile didn’t falter. "Come on, Leonhardt. If you want me dead, don’t half-ass it." Her voice was teasing.

Leo’s face was a mask of fury, his voice a low growl as he leaned in, their faces barely inches apart. "Why’d you do it?"

Erin’s smile twitched. "Rin Valarune?"

He pulled the knife back, stepping away but keeping his glare locked on her. "You knew about her curse. You knew our locations inside that dome. You knew Velmira was her cure." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "You’re no ordinary first-year. Who the hell are you?"

Erin’s expression softened, but her eyes stayed unreadable. She knelt gracefully, scooping up Nimbus, who purred and nuzzled her hand. "What would you do with that info?" she asked, petting the cat. "I made things easier for you, Leonhardt. Without Rin in that cage, could you have saved anyone?"

Leo’s jaw tightened. He knew she was right. All 34 students survived because of Rin’s sacrifice. She’d held the line. Even Leo’s stamina to fight Valtharion was because Rin guided Velmir to him. But that didn’t erase his suspicion.

"What’s your game?" he demanded.

She set Nimbus down, meeting his gaze with a calm intensity. "There’s still time, Leonhardt. Everything will make sense soon." She turned to leave, her steps light. "Oh, and say sorry to Senior Rin for me. I hear you’re headed to House Valarune."

Leo watched her go, his fists clenched, suspicion coiling in his chest. "You’re still suspicious as hell," he called after her.

She glanced back, her smile sharp. "Don’t care." With that, she vanished down the hall, leaving Leo alone with Nimbus, who flicked his tail smugly. Leo’s eyes burned with uncertainty.

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