In the dimly lit dungeon cell, the heavy creak of the iron door echoed through the chamber, heralding the arrival of the guard. Clad in a dark black robe that marked his affiliation with the disciplinary division, he exuded an air of authority and malice. With a twisted smirk tugging at his lips, he sauntered toward Michael, relishing in the power he held over his captive.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here," the guard sneered, his voice laced with derision. "You really should have known your place, shouldn't you? Offending the esteemed White family... a foolish move indeed."
Michael, undeterred by the guard's taunting words, met his gaze with a fiery defiance burning in his eyes. A wicked smile played upon his lips as he responded, his retort dripping with vulgarity and disdain. "The White family? Ha! They're nothing but a bunch of corrupt worms, crawling in the muck of their own greed. I'll never bow down to those scumbags."
