Chapter 1670: I Can't Take It Anymore (Patreon)

Chapter 1670: I Can't Take It Anymore

Upon hearing the words of the bandit, Meng Yunzheng's eyebrows slightly furrowed. As expected, these people were shifting the blame onto the emperor.

The young nobleman's resentment grew stronger as he listened, his eyes turning red as he shouted, "You're driven to a dead end, why take it out on us common folks? If you have the guts, why don't you..."

Before he could utter the words "rebel" out, he was swiftly muffled by a middle-aged man behind him who hissed, "Are you crazy? How can you say something like that?"

The young nobleman cried in despair, "But we have no way out. The other day, Young Master He from the Ho family was taken away. He still hasn't returned. They say he was fed to the wild beasts. Did you not hear it last night? Those beastly cries... I can't take it anymore, I just can't."

The others in the cell clenched their teeth, their faces turning pale at the memory of the sounds from last night. They could only bow their heads in silence.

Seeing this scene, the bandit became even more pleased. He raised an eyebrow and said, "You can't handle just the sounds of wild beasts? Feeling desperate, aren't you? You folks had it too easy before, unlike us who've suffered through hardship. At least you still have some hope, but us? We've waited for half a year for a pardon, and what do we get? We..."

Meng Yunzheng lowered his voice and interrupted him, "Enough, let's move on." He couldn't let him keep fueling their anger. "If we delay any further, it'll be time for dinner."

The bandit's back stiffened, and upon hearing him mention time, he realized he hadn't taken his antidote yet. He stopped himself from continuing to stimulate their morbid curiosity, sighed, and said, "Fine, I don't feel like wasting words with them. Let's keep moving forward."

He led the way ahead, with Meng Yunzheng and Shu Yu following.

From behind, the young nobleman's frustrated railing against the bars continued. If his mouth hadn't been covered, he might have continued his vehement protest.

Both Shu Yu and Meng Yunzheng felt heavy-hearted.

"These two cells ahead hold traitors and spies," the bandit's voice echoed. Meng Yunzheng and Shu Yu followed his gaze.

The occupants of these two cells weren't numerous, but... their condition was dire.

All of them were in a ghastly state, either sprawled on the ground or lying still. Without exception, they were all injured, with broken hands, legs, some almost mummified, emitting a particularly pungent smell of blood.

Meng Yunzheng's steps faltered. These people were all covered in wounds, their clothes tattered and torn, making it hard to even recognize their features.

If his uncle Meng were among them, Meng Yunzheng feared he might impulsively open the door to rescue him.

Seeing him peer into the cell, the bandit quickly whispered, "The person you're looking for probably isn't in there."

"How can you be sure?"

The bandit explained, "These people were sent to the arena to duel with wild beasts before. Their injuries are from that time. The black market hasn't operated for about ten days. Didn't your uncle get brought in just a couple of days ago? Since the arena isn't active, there's no reason to lock people up here, right?"

His reasoning was somewhat sound, but to be cautious, Meng Yunzheng still checked each person one by one.

If he couldn't see their faces, he looked at their figures, at their clothes.

Most of the prisoners wore similar attire, likely supplied by the black market – mostly off-white or beige – so that bloodstains would drive them even more insane.