Before the Villains’ Ending

Calix watched for a moment as the supervisors drank and ate their meals in the tents they had built outdoors, then raised a hand, pretending to be faithful to their duties.

“That guy.”

He singled them out one by one. The supervisor nodded, and the supervisor who received the signal came out of the tent, called them out, and led them to the barracks next door. This process was repeated several times.

“… Ah, no. Not this guy, over there.”

Calix naturally called the three names and mistook them at the end. The person in charge stared at him with a dissatisfied look, then clicked his tongue in an insolent gaze asking what to do, and called the person in front. The prisoner, who was walking towards the tent, spit out curses with his characteristic rebellious face and then went back to his place.

Afterward, they were allowed a short break in the name of regrouping to fill the crew. The prisoners rushed to the canteen and enjoyed their meals as usual. An ominous peace ensued. Of course, apart from that atmosphere, the plan was executed faster than Calix thought.

While the suspects were being questioned inside a temporary building, the main building, where their prisoner numbers and room numbers were handed over, searched their rooms, where the gold of unknown origin and the remains of spoons stolen from a restaurant were found. In some rooms, a map showing the escape routes after the prison break was found.

With this, the existence of the escape attempt became clear. They called those who were being interrogated in the temporary barracks at the workhouse to the main building for interrogation.

“We just did what we were told!! To be honest, if we had made up our minds to do it, wouldn’t we have blatantly stood out when we were working? I feel unfair, damn it!!”

“Okay. Okay. First, name that snitch bastard. Then we’ll talk, fuck!”

The person in charge pressing his temples contoured his face. The accomplices of the attempted criminal simply resented the unknown informer and were unwilling to speak about the snitch.

The basic privilege given to the snitch also included the guarantee of anonymity and personal protection, so he could not reveal his existence as they said. Moreover, it was not possible to arbitrarily interrogate using torture.

Originally, torture was legal only for felons imprisoned in Alcatraz, repeat offenders with a criminal record of escape, and prisoners with abilities. In other words, he, the person in charge, could not harm and interrogate them at will. The unilateral violence by the guards was done implicitly, but it was distinguished from simple violence in that tools for torture such as a pharynx were not used.

Thus, paradoxically, the attempted criminal suspect who was placed as the top priority was Calix. The guards complained to him about the attempted escape, which was rarely solved. Legal interrogation continued. Calix continued to lash out while enduring screams in more pain than usual.

“You’re so damn good at being cowardly. You should feel ashamed of Reload. I guess the right to remain silent bothered you when you tried to kill me like a rabid son of a bitch as soon as you could torture me?”
T/N: Side note: this is said by Calix because he got exposed and the person in charge Clark is torturing him, this sentence means that as soon as he got the rights of being the person in charge he showed his colors. That’s what I think to feel free to correct me.

The person in charge, that was, Clark, was silent in contempt. It was partially true, but even in the middle of it, the attitude of citing evidence and talking about compensation for the informant was shocking enough to make me wonder if it was crazy. He felt keenly that Calix Hamel was madder than he thought. It gave him goosebumps to see him act as if he was completely distracted by something.

Prisoners in Sinalore were not normal. It was only today that I realized that there is no exaggeration in the reviews of the public, and he felt funny. He raised his hand and removed the pharynx from his skin, groaning in frustration.

“Ha, so what are we going to do now?!”

“Stop pretending to be legitimate.”

Calix took a few rough breaths, then quickly regained his pace and smiled like a snake. It was a relaxed look. He rolled his unfocused eyes here and there as if he was drunk on something, and finally shook his head.

“It’s ridiculous to talk about human rights to those who are heinous criminals in the first place. Just looking at the entrance of Alcatraz now, there are many cases where one part of the body is broken while beating a criminal.”

He continued, looking like a con artist.

“It would be faster to stop pretending to be nice and just torture the attempted criminals. I’m a person with special abilities, so I’m a little less sensitive to torture than normal people.”

“That’s ridiculous…!”

“Believe it or not. And better, ah. If you call it pleasure, is it masochist? Yes.”

Calix arrogantly ignored the anger of the person in charge. The appearance of him asking questions was more like a prison guard than a prisoner.

Clark had to work hard not to get involved. This was not what he had in mind… He preferred to keep his mouth shut. He knew a lot about the man in front of him.

A man who was once the most influential candidate for the crown prince and a former grand duke, and fell into disrepair after arguing with many men, including the crown prince, over a woman, going mad with obsession and eventually causing a rebellion.

That’s what Calix Hamel looked like in the world. He didn’t know about him. The fall of a man with the best conditions in the empire was already being treated as a romantic story in itself. When Beatrice rejected him in front of everyone, saying that she was the person of the crown prince, those who saw his expression spoke in unison. They said he was so desperate that he couldn’t even be angry.

Even after the rebellion, descriptions of his appearance were commonplace from place to place. Anyway, what he had in common was that they could no longer find regrets in life. Rumors that he had been banned from eating and drinking for a while when he was imprisoned in the basement of Sinalore were well known, so no further explanation was needed.

However…

‘It’s different from the rumors.’

Clark took a deep breath. The Grand Duke, whom he had heard through rumors, and the Grand Duke, whom he had personally experienced in the past few days, were different from rumors. What he saw from Calix was not despair, but another obsession, and he was ready to do anything to achieve his goal, just as he had before he was imprisoned. Clark sensed the danger.

See, even now, as if he had taken drugs, his last name does not remain, but his gaze at him does not waver at all. He was a man who could not fit in with the ‘prisoner’ or ‘convict’ that Clark had thought and seen.

“Answer me.”

Yes, Calix Fernand Hamel was a grand duke even there.

Clark pursed his lips, forcibly ignoring the headache from the arrogant request. It was only after several minutes that a word that could be called an answer came out.

“I am the Grand Duke. So use the honorific title.”

“What?”

“…”

Clark hesitated to answer. It was because he did not know the purpose of the question. Calix looked at him and stood up. Then, as if giving a child the answer to a riddle, he muttered while smiling.

“Think about what my crime was.”

“… What is that all of a sudden?”

“Listen, you better be in charge. Your boss, like a fool, seems to have forgotten that I killed about 400 people alone without it, and I love using fire beside it.”

Deuk deuk.

Clark stopped breathing at the things that were happening before his eyes. The restraints were breaking. Like that, as it cracked and slowly distorted its shape. Even during that time, Calix’s expression did not change.

“And I need a mask to use the fire.”

Oh, just in case they didn’t know if they thought that the reason he had been quiet and behaving all this time was because of the romantic story they were talking about, then they’re wrong.

Calix grinned in a sly tone and turned his finger over my head.

“Think about it.”

Clarke looked down at the shackles used to bind prisoners. It was mercilessly torn to pieces and rolling on the stone floor. Calix, happily, spoke as he brushed off a piece of chain hanging from his hand.

What on earth was more important than life? The grand duke, the damned terrorist, looked down at the new in-charge, consumed by a sense of helplessness. The color was most similar to darkness. Dark eyes like the devil laughed.

“Let’s get back to the point. Gunpowder requires a lot of ingredients. Oh, my God, who would have thought that you would give me all that alcohol? The knights who handed it over were so busy monitoring my abilities that they couldn’t even remember all the actions I had taken when I committed treason.”

Thanks to that, the ingredients came together very easily. Calix was approaching Clark before he knew it, patting him on the shoulder. As if this whole situation was just a joke.

It was precisely after the words had ended that deafening shouts were heard along with the sound of breaking glass. Calix chuckled evilly like a tyrant amid the noise.

“You don’t even need to explain in detail. You’ll know what it is when you see it.”

“…Shit!!”

Clark eventually lost his composure.

Sinalore, like any other prison, was built with non-combustible materials in case of fire. In addition, matches and torches that could be lit were kept out of reach of prisoners, so Clark Hughes did not worry about the fire at all until then. Of course, there was a smoking room, but in practice, he didn’t think anything could be done with the meager number of matches that could simply be stolen from there…

It was a fucking terrible misjudgment.

He heard someone shouting fire. Calix got up from his seat in a relaxed manner, and soon the sound of an explosion from something like a large barrel bursting echoed loudly as if it would burst his eardrums.

Clark jumped up and ran down the stairs leading upstairs. Behind him, Calix Hamel gave languid advice in a relaxed voice.

“It’s late, idiot.”