Chapter 74:

Chapter 74:

Prison Visit

"You're Silaine's nephew?"

Entering the interview room with a glass window riddled with holes, Aiden saw a youthful boy, appearing no more than sixteen or seventeen, the only distinct feature being a scar on his face.

He refrained from taking the seat in front of the window, reserved for prisoners, and had no intention of engaging in a lengthy conversation. As the warden, he typically avoided direct meetings with inmates' relatives to avoid suspicion.

"Are you... in charge here?" The young man seemed somewhat nervous.

"Yes, I'm the warden. What's your connection to Silaine? As far as we know, she doesn't have a nephew."

"I-I'm... a friend of her son," the boy stammered.

Aiden sensed the unnatural tension in the boy's demeanor, observing the scar on his face. Considering Silaine's son's background, he suddenly grasped some details.

"A friend from the syndicate?" Aiden ventured to guess.

The boy slightly widened his eyes and admitted, "Yes, we're good brothers."

As Aiden had suspected, the young man was also affiliated with the underworld. The reason for his evident nervousness likely stemmed from his current attire.

"So, you're taking care of her because her son? Quite the loyality. But Silaine is currently in solitary confinement. According to regulations, no visits are allowed. It's pointless for you to approach me," Aiden stated, crossing his arms.

"She's in solitary because..." The boy hesitated.

"Didn't the prison guard inform you? She attempted to attack another inmate. Since you know her, you should be aware of the reason she's in prison," Aiden replied.

"She still wants to kill Miss Carmilla..." The boy lowered his gaze, his voice tinged with melancholy.

"Hmm?" Aiden sensed something amiss.

Considering the boy's connection as Silaine's son's friend in the syndicate, he should hold resentment towards Carmilla, the one who allegedly killed his friend.

However, his tone and address indicated otherwiseno apparent animosity toward Carmilla.

"Uh..." The young man quickly regained composure, "So, when can I see her? Also, I brought some money and items..."

From the start, they were discarded pawns within their own gang, mere expendables at the bottom of the hierarchy.

"You, how old are you?" Carmilla asked nonchalantly.

The two teenagers exchanged glances, completely unaware of the significance of the question.

"Are you Deaf!?" Carmilla impatiently glared as both remained silent.

"Fif-fifteen..." "Fifteen."

They hastily responded.

"Hmph, little brats who haven't even grown proper hair." Carmilla disdainfully spat, "Playing gangsters here? Do you think being in the underworld is cool? Huh?"

One boy lowered his head, not daring to speak, while the other hesitated and said, "I just... wanted to cure my mom's illness."

"I told you to speak!" Suddenly, Carmilla kicked the talking boy's shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

"Sis, how should we deal with these two brats?" a gang member asked.

Carmilla, still smoking, looked at the boy on the ground enduring the pain without making a sound. She kicked the other one to the ground as well.

"Throw them out, let them roll! I have no interest in weaklings. Spending time dealing with these little rodents is a waste," Carmilla impatiently pronounced judgment.

The two fallen boys glanced at each other, unable to believe their ears.

"Trash should know their place. Go home and suck your mom's milk! If I see you again, I'll gouge your eyes out." Carmilla finished, tossing the cigarette on the ground and stamping it out.

When the boy came to his senses, he found himself standing at the prison gate.

What should he do?

He wondered in his mind.

In hesitation, he noticed an iron mailbox placed at the prison entrance.

"Warden... mailbox?" Staring at the painted letters, the boy froze in place.