Chapter 36

Clemens von Rottner was bewildered.

‘What in the world… what is the meaning of this…?’

The sofa he had been forced to sit upon was a first-class masterpiece of glossy leather that supplely absorbed the weight of his body.

Spread across the beautifully polished stone floor was a luxurious carpet so thick his ankles threatened to sink into it.

The chandeliers, the tea sets, the vases, and the paintings.

Even Clemens, who had grown accustomed to luxury as the Prime Minister of the great Luten Kingdom, found himself captivated by the exquisite items integrated so casually into this room.

“Here you go. These are yours, Clemens.”

Along with a voice that was pleasant to the ear, he was handed seven cards.

Hearts, diamonds, spades, and clubs—the four suits and their numbers, along with the illustrations of kings, were adorned with gold leaf. The cards themselves were pieces of art worthy of admiration.

This was a prison.

Specifically, it was supposed to be a prison where inmates were constantly oppressed under wretched conditions.

And yet, why was this place furnished like a royal palace—no, perhaps even more beautiful and comfortable than one?

‘Just who are these people…?’

It had been about two days since he was sent to prison and regained his senses.

While pretending to be a submissive prisoner, Clemens had been vigilantly exploring the interior of the jail.

Yes, exploring.

To his astonishment, the prisoners here were neither bound by chains nor locked in their rooms; they moved about the building with utter freedom.

Yet, strangely enough, the discipline within the prison was not compromised in the least.

The building was kept clean, the meals were sufficient, and the prisoners all diligently attended to their respective duties. It felt like the interior of a perfectly regulated military dormitory.

However, there was one section within this prison that the seemingly free inmates never approached.

The top floor of the prison, which was built atop a sheer cliff.

In that space, which must have originally been a row of solitary confinement cells looking down upon the raging sea below, those they called the “Great Criminals” had gathered.

He had expected the prisoners to be strictly restrained here, at the very least, but that expectation was thoroughly betrayed.

In a spacious area filled with the most extravagant furniture, five men and a woman were leisurely enjoying black tea on sofas that looked exceptionally comfortable.

There was a man with sharp, fearless features; a massive, muscular giant; a youth wearing a white lab coat for some reason; a middle-aged man who exuded the refined air of a butler; and an androgynous youth who could be mistaken for a woman—Rottner felt, for some reason, like he had seen this youth somewhere before.

Their appearances varied, but they all shared one thing: they were dressed in clean, beautiful, and well-groomed attire that was unthinkable for a common prisoner.

And then—

“Oh, look. Your hands have stopped moving. Shouldn’t you be rearranging your cards? Once the hand is dealt, you must start thinking of a strategy immediately. After all, your future life depends on it.”

Clemens stared intently at the woman who spoke to him in a voice as sweet as honey, her hand gently brushing against his arm.

She was a beautiful woman.

Gently waving silver hair, white skin so pale it seemed translucent, bewitching blue eyes, and perfectly shaped lips.

The lone flower among the “Great Criminals,” she wore a negligee-like dress in a disheveled, suggestive manner. She reclined regally on the innermost sofa, looking for all the world like the queen of this prison.

Heidemarie—the stunning prostitute whose beauty was once said to be enough to bring down a nation—wore a faint smile and spoke as if singing.

“I’ve already explained the strength of the cards and the winning hands. We take turns playing stronger cards to get rid of our hands. The first to finish becomes the Kaiser (Emperor), and the last to finish becomes the Great Pauper. If you become the Kaiser, we shall obey you and see to it that you are released from this prison without fail.”

“…”

She spoke of liberation from Waltzer Prison, a place whispered to be a living hell, as if it were a trivial matter.

There was no way her words could be true.

It was impossible—and yet, as Clemens looked into those blue eyes, it felt as though every word spun from her lips was the absolute truth.

“But be warned, Clemens. We are quite strong. Do take care not to have all your money plucked away until you’re left stone-broke.”

Her noble, cat-like eyes flickered with amusement.

“Now then,” she called out to him.

“The hands are dealt. Well then—play the first card.”