Chapter 152: Imprisoned?
"All we're asking for is a simple adjustment," he said smoothly.
"A discount system. Something fair, something sustainable. If certain players affiliated with a specific group were to receive minor benefits—say, priority access to higher-grade equipment, training, or discounted goods—then I'm certain we can put this entire matter behind us."
Arthur blinked.
Wait. What?
He turned to Adam, his expression shifting from amusement to barely concealed horror.
Of course, it was a fake expression. He wanted to let Adam know that it was his own greed that will lead them to their demise.
Still, he knew exactly what Adam was doing.
He wasn't just asking for a mere discount.
He was laying the groundwork for the military to establish itself within the village. If Adam succeeded in making a deal here, it would mean that almost every ambitious player in the village would be forced to join the military's faction in order to remain competitive.
It was a power grab. A political maneuver.
Arthur whispered, "What have you done?"
Before Adam could respond—
CRASH!
A heavy vase was knocked off the desk as Charles kicked back his chair, his fury nearly tangible.
His face twisted with rage, and his voice thundered across the room.
"GUARDS!"
"Throw both of them in prison." He sshoud, his tone gloomy and filled with venom.
Arthur's breath hitched as he looked at Adam who was also not expecting such a reaciton.
"I don't want to see either of them out, until further notice!"
The doors burst open as two heavily armed guards rushed in, their eyes locked on the both of them.
Adam's hand twitched toward his weapon instinctively before he stopped himself. He took a slow, measured breath, already shifting tactics.
"Mayor, be careful," Adam warned, his voice steady despite the growing tension. "If you do this, the players outside will riot. They will cause trouble. Think carefully about the consequences."
Charles scoffed.
"Let them riot," he spat. "If they want to challenge my authority, I will remind them who runs this village. I will release my guards onto them, and if that isn't enough—"
His gaze burned into Adam's.
"I will unleash our hidden beasts to destroy them."
A heavy silence crashed into the room.
Meanwhile, Arthur could barely hold himself from laughing. The mayor was too powerful, if he could, he would have rewarded him with an Oscar trophy.
He had told the mayor to act, and he had sent him the script.
But this? He didn't expect such energy, it was as if his talent was acting.
Adam's face sank, his usual stoicism slipping into something closer to anger and frustration. He had miscalculated. He had pushed too much, too fast.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze flicking to Arthur, looking for some kind of plan, some unspoken strategy to salvage the situation.
But Arthur only shook his head, his expression unreadable, a faint frown on his lips.
"You asked for too much," Arthur muttered under his breath.
Before Adam could respond—
The guards surrounded them, their weapons raised.
The lead guard stepped forward, his expression void of sympathy.
"Both of you—come quietly."
Arthur didn't resist. He sighed and shook his head.
Adam, however, tensed.
His military instincts screamed at him to fight, to refuse capture. His fingers twitched near his weapon, but he stopped himself.
He knew that going against so many guards at once, was not a good idea. Furthermore, each guard was not weak in the slightest. He had no chance.
Arthur caught the brief moment of hesitation in Adam's stance.
"Don't." His voice was low, firm. "Not now."
Adam exhaled sharply through his nose before nodding.
Two guards grabbed them roughly by the arms and began hauling them toward the back of the Mayor's office, past a concealed door that led down a flight of cold, stone steps.
A damp, musty scent filled the air as they descended. The further they went, the heavier the air became, thick with the scent of aged stone, and rusted metal.
They reached the bottom.
The dungeon was dark and uninviting, only dimly illuminated by flickering torches mounted on the cracked walls. The cells were lined up in a narrow hallway, thick iron bars separating them, the shadows stretching unnaturally in the low light.
One of the guards sneered. "Throw each one of them in a different corner."
Arthur's brow twitched upward.
"What? Worried we'll start plotting?"
The guard scowled. "Shut up."
Arthur smirked. "Touched a nerve, did I?"
The next moment, Arthur was shoved forward. His back hit the cold stone wall of a nearby cell as the iron bars slammed shut in front of him with a deafening CLANG!
Adam, on the other hand, was dragged further down, past multiple empty cells, before being tossed into the very last one.
The guards exchanged a few words before stepping back, satisfied.
"No food, no water," the lead guard announced as if it was a simple command. "Mayor's orders. Let them rot."
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[Ding! You have been imprisoned.]
[Debuff applied!]
[You have lost 50% of your combat prowess.]
Looking at the notifications, Arthur raised an eyebrow. This debuff was too overpowered. Losing half of your strength? It was almost guaranteed that Adam wouldn't be able to escape. Unless he used the teleportation scroll to the city, and if he did, he would no longer be able to come back to the village. And, even then, Arthur wasn't sure if that was possible. He was going to try it out later, to test whether Adam could do that or not.
The guards secured Adam's cell with a final clang before turning back toward Arthur. Their boots echoed against the stone floor as they walked past the other cells, their eyes never once meeting Adam's.
Arthur remained leaned against the iron bars of his own cell, waiting for them to approach.
Then, just as planned, the guard at the front stopped, took out a key, and inserted it into the lock of Arthur's cell.
With a slow turn, the mechanism clicked open.