Chapter 1 Where Is He

At the Southwestern Border of Zynthera, Clusia stood a massive structure. It was the infamous Zynthera Prison, a name that would strike fear into countless hearts! This prison housed only the most dangerous criminals. Each inmate had committed multiple murders or operated as drug lords and arms dealers roaming the borders of several countries for years. In short, anyone incarcerated here was either a heinous felon or a high-profile criminal sentenced to life imprisonment or the death penalty. However, this ominous prison in the remote southwestern region welcomed a few individuals who seemingly did not belong there. A military SUV with a Northyard Military District license plate screeched to a halt at the prison's main gate. Two people stepped out—one man and one woman. Even in a desolate place like this, their striking appearance would have drawn attention, let alone in a bustling metropolis. The man wore a sharp military uniform adorned with a gleaming star on his shoulder, indicating his rank as a major general. He looked no older than forty, an impressive age for such a rank. The woman, on the other hand, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her professional attire accentuated her graceful figure, exuding an allure that could easily stir chaos among the inmates inside. As they stepped out of the car, the prison warden, Gerald Woodard, who had been waiting at the gate for some time, led them into the notorious stronghold. Their expressions were filled with urgency and unease, especially the stunning woman. Her elegant brows knitted tightly together, a sign of deep concern. “Mr. Woodard, where is the person?” the major general asked sternly as the trio briskly made their way to the warden's office. “I've sent someone to fetch him. He'll be here soon,” Gerald replied. “Fetch? Mr. Woodard, are you sure it's fetching and not an interrogation?” the beautiful woman quipped, raising an eyebrow. Gerald chuckled at her sarcasm, lighting a cigarette by the window without offering an explanation. No one understood the person they were about to meet better than Gerald. That man's illustrious past and achievements were nothing short of legendary. Gerald had never regarded him as just a prisoner. “Whitney, when you meet him, set aside your disdain,” the major general warned with a frown. “Mr. Lopez, can he really save my father?” Whitney Stewart asked doubtfully. Even the elite special forces from the Northyard Military District had returned in defeat. She found it hard to believe that a single individual could turn the tide. What was more absurd was that this person was a convict serving a life sentence in Zynthera Prison. If not for her trust in Omer Howell, the Northyard Military District's chief of staff, she would have turned back by now. “In the entire southwest region, if even Lucius Cedrone cannot do it, then we must prepare for the worst,” Marcel Lopez, the major general replied. Whitney's shoulders trembled as she said, “Mr. Lopez, this concerns my father's life and death. We cannot afford to be reckless.” Marcel pondered for a moment and then said gravely, “Whitney, with the standing of your family's Green Energy Group, you should be privy to certain classified information. Do you remember the international incident from a year ago that shook the world?” Whitney nodded. “I do. One night, a royal building in a certain country was bathed in blood, with thirty-eight casualties.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. Marcel nodded. “You guessed correctly. That was Lucius Cedrone's doing. The incident's massive fallout led to his imprisonment, despite being hailed as the Nation's Pillar countless times. Do you know how many people signed petitions to save him but failed? Lucius was the pride of the military, the true Nation's Pillar. Even in times of peace, he achieved unparalleled feats. To this day, stories of his exploits circulate within the military. His abilities are beyond question. If he cannot resolve this crisis, no one can.” Marcel's words were resolute. “Then why is he imprisoned here? I always thought he'd be in Qrento,” Whitney said in astonishment. She had heard about that shocking incident a year ago, but only as a hearsay. “Qrento?” Marcel chuckled and replied pointedly, “Do you know how many people in Jexburgh would never allow him to go to Qrento?” Before Whitney could process the weight of those words, the office door suddenly swung open. A tall, upright young man entered. He was clad in a prisoner's uniform, with a short buzz cut, appearing no older than twenty-four or twenty-five. Though not conventionally handsome, his chiseled features exuded a rugged charm.