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Chapter 441 - Chapter 441: The First Batch of Prisoners (Edited)

Caractacus Burke was a shrewd businessman, that was undeniable. But it's hard for a shrewd businessman to also be a kind person. The greed of traders leads them to do many things that go against human ethical values. For instance, when Tom Riddle's mother, Merope, went to his shop to sell a locket, he only gave her ten galleons and kept the locket.

It was the only Slytherin locket! An object on the same level as Gryffindor's sword, Ravenclaw's diadem, and Hufflepuff's cup, and he sold it for just ten galleons! The gems on the locket alone were worth more than that! Burke's deal took advantage of Merope's ignorance and poverty. It was an act of daylight robbery since Merope was sick, poor, and pregnant with Riddle. The ability to deceive a person in such a situation spoke volumes about Burke's character. No wonder his old partner, Borgin, betrayed him when he found himself in danger.

Some time later, Burke sold the locket to Hepzibah Smith, a descendant of Hufflepuff. Burke made a lot of money by reselling the locket, but he didn't even realize the significance of this special family heirloom. He only reveled in the fact that he had made money for himself.

Burke bragged about this profitable deal to Borgin, his more professional partner. But Borgin, who was more experienced, detected the issue with just a few words. After inquiring carefully about the locket's appearance, Borgin realized it might be the famous Slytherin locket. When he learned that Burke had sold the locket, he was on the verge of a fit and stopped trusting Burke's professional abilities from then on.

"Sir, look at this, this is the Hand of Glory, and this is the Cursed Eye..." Borgin imagined in his mind Burke's miserable fate as he presented one treasure after another that he had brought to Tom, explaining their names, functions, and negative effects.

"The Cursed Eye requires removing the original eye and placing it in the empty socket, thereby gaining the ability of penetrating vision. It is said that common diamond structures cannot block the gaze of the Cursed Eye," Borgin explained as he took the glass eye that had been next to the Hand of Glory and placed it in a glass box on a shelf.

"However, its negative effects are also astounding. It absorbs a large amount of nutrients from the human body and gradually rejects the user's body until it falls off completely... The more bloodstains it has, the more people have used it, and it is more likely to cause rejection. But the less time it is used, the less harm it will cause to the body, which compensates for the negative aspects," Borgin said after explaining the function of the Cursed Eye, emphasizing its shocking side effects.

Tom finally understood that this glass eye was like a low-quality version of Moody's Eye. However, no matter how he looked at it, the side effects of this Cursed Eye resembled a rejection reaction.

Perhaps after several decades, would Moody's eye also end up in that state? Tom wondered silently, not knowing what connection Moody's Eye had with this supposed Cursed Eye.

While Tom and Mr. Borgin were enthusiastically discussing the magical abilities of the alchemical objects in the collection, Peter arrived outside the warehouse and knocked on the door.

"Boss, a new group of prisoners has arrived."

"Oh?" Tom got excited. What was the point of a prison without prisoners? Only when there were enough prisoners did the prison function properly.

"Let's go see," he said, leaving Borgin in the warehouse to continue organizing the collection items, while he went to observe the prisoners.

The White Dolphin Prison was a very special prison. From the beginning, Tom had declared that he would only accept prisoners with sentences of thirty years or more. Therefore, those on that ship could be considered villains in their entirety.

Tom stood at the top of the prison, watching the group of prisoners who had been brought there, while the sea breeze ruffled his hair. Behind him, the Dementors floated in the sky. Wizards always thought that Dementors had no emotions, but that wasn't true. When a fresh supply arrived, Tom could sense a kind of happiness-like emotion in the Dementors.

A slight smile formed on Tom's lips...

...

The ship that arrived wasn't very large, similar in size to typical transport boats in Venice. One boat could carry up to fifty passengers. The boat's structure wasn't complicated, consisting of two floors: the lower part was the hold where the prisoners were kept, and the upper part was the cockpit and the guards' surveillance area. In the hold, there were rows of old wooden benches, each with two prisoners handcuffed on either side. These thirty prisoners were the first batch of criminals sent to White Dolphin Prison.

The hold's windows were very low, less than half a meter above sea level. The waves constantly crashed against the windows, leaving yellow foam on their surface.

The boat moved with the swaying of the waves, making the prisoners on board feel seasick. One of the prisoners in the back couldn't take it and suddenly vomited, filling the hold with a sour smell. Under the influence of this odor, like a domino effect, all the prisoners on the boat began to empty their stomachs.

The hold became a hellish scene.

The guard watching over them frowned, covered his nose, and approached the window, opening it to let in the fresh sea air, slightly improving the air quality in the hold. However, when he opened the window, the waves from outside flooded the interior of the boat, soaking several prisoners who were near the windows.

A wave hit the face of a blonde prisoner with a ponytail accurately, leaving her breathless.

Puff.

She spit out the bitter saltwater from her mouth and struggled to expel the water from her nose.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, "Couldn't they choose a normal prison? Did it have to be a damn White Dolphin Prison...?"

"Because we're serious criminals," her neighbor prisoner replied, "If you've only been sentenced to a few years, they won't send you here."

She glanced at the people around her, "Here, all the prisoners have been sentenced to a minimum of thirty years. What's your crime and how many years do you have?"

"Murder. Life sentence," the woman with the blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail responded concisely.

"Oh! Impressive," the neighboring prisoner raised her eyebrows, at that moment, she even felt a bit of respect for the blonde. Sentenced to life, how much blood must she have spilled!

"I'm Ames," she introduced herself.

"Villanelle," the blonde woman replied.

The boat reached the shore. The armed guards took the prisoners out one by one, making them form a line on the beach. Villanelle was right behind Ames.

"Peter, captain of the White Dolphin Prison guard," Peter introduced himself as the prison's representative and handled the handover with the escort guards.

"Peter, hello, I'm Eve, I work in the Military Intelligence Department," a middle-aged woman representing the government approached voluntarily and shook hands with Peter.

"MI5?" Peter frowned, not understanding why this prison had attracted the attention of military intelligence. Peter knew that the Military Intelligence Department was composed of six main branches, each with specific responsibilities for addressing threats such as terrorism, espionage activities, and the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction.

But what did that have to do with this prison? Did they believe they were a covert espionage agency? Peter pondered, and suddenly considered that the suspicions of the Military Intelligence Department were quite reasonable; after all, this prison seemed very suspicious.

"I'm not a special agent," Eve seemed to understand Peter's thoughts, "My job is to inspect this prison and ensure it's safe enough to house serious criminals. I also oversee that the prisoners' human rights are respected, and there are no illegal activities within the prison."

Eve spoke subtly, but the message was clear: there were people within the government who distrusted the capabilities and morals of White Dolphin Prison and suspected they might have hidden motives, believing they could be engaging in illegal activities like organ harvesting or inhumane experiments.

As for espionage... the Military Intelligence Department hadn't considered that possibility. Not because the British intelligence system was so deteriorated that it didn't need protection, but because Russia was in a period of retrenchment, and the intelligence service heads believed the Russians didn't have the capability to carry out such a significant operation. Plus, Yuri had paved the way with Sir Arnold, considered trustworthy. Therefore, while there were people within the government who distrusted his abilities and morals, no one questioned his loyalty.

"We'll accept any inspection," Peter shrugged, "No prison cares more about human rights than this one. In fact, I even feel we pamper the prisoners too much. There's no forced labor; they have access to a complete library, a relaxation room, a infirmary, and even a priest. Guards and prisoners are completely separated in daily life. Besides wearing handcuffs and shackles 24 hours a day, there are few restrictions..."

"So, now I wonder what the purpose of establishing a prison like this is," Eve was surprised to hear this; she didn't understand why a private prison would choose this management approach. According to this approach, the prison would undoubtedly lose money.

"Could the owner of this prison want to enter the political stage in this way? A 'human rights' prison has a market among liberal voters..." Eve thought she had uncovered the truth. In recent years, there had been an increasing number of people with a very protective mindset in the country, leading to subtle shifts in politicians. Some began advocating for equal rights or became interested in causes like the environment or animal protection.

Eve instinctively felt that something was amiss in all of this, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was exactly; after all, what they were doing seemed to be a good thing. Fortunately, politicians of this kind were still a minority, and the prison owner was probably the first to dare to eat tomatoes.

And so, the two chatted.

The line gradually grew shorter.

Villanelle and Ames followed along step by step. They soon entered the prison.

They weren't sure if it was an illusion, but after entering the prison, they felt the temperature drop several degrees.

As per custom, prisoners were registered upon entering the prison, and White Dolphin Prison was no exception. Villanelle was taken to a small room where two beautiful blonde female guards were waiting to process the new prisoners.

Villanelle raised her eyebrows; she hadn't expected the prison guards to be so attractive.

"From today, your previous name doesn't matter. In this prison, your name is M013, and you'd better remember this code well," the left guard said loudly. Her voice was soft and melodious like a nightingale's, but it had a strong Russian accent. "Now, M013, put all your items in this tray."

She placed a plastic basket on a nearby table with a serious expression.

"Oh, Russian?" Villanelle ignored the guard's order and examined the two guards from head to toe, "I love Russian girls. My ex-girlfriend was Russian, but her hair was..."

"Sukabliat!" the right guard, who had been silent the whole time, pulled out a baton and struck Villanelle forcefully on the shoulder, causing her to fall to the ground, taken off guard.

"My friend doesn't speak English very well, so she's more of an action person," the left guard teased with a smile, "Put your things in the tray and take off all your clothes, and I mean everything!"

"Oh, wow, I guess I should say my safe word..." Villanelle gave a flirtatious look, but upon seeing both guards with their hands on their batons, she quickly calmed down and undressed promptly.

"Now what? Should I lie down on my back, or just put my hands on the ground?" she joked as she wobbled, assuming an extremely seductive pose.

The two Russian girls looked at each other and sighed simultaneously. The English-speaking guard took a rubber glove from the nearby table and put it on.

"Hercules!" Villanelle felt every muscle in her body tense.

"Don't move," the guard said seriously.

"Hmm, no hidden objects."

The guard seemed like an emotionless inspection machine.

Villanelle: !!!

"!"

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