When Calix Hamel first started plotting his prison escape, there were a few things he didn’t tell his colleagues. One of them was about the ‘sacrifice’ that would occur on the day of the plan.
Calix was a criminal, and he was also an aristocrat who was good at scheming and deceit. He was neither idle nor merciful enough to weigh the morality of his conclusions. Because of this, he took the deaths of those who were nominally allies quite right.
A total of five casualties occurred at the time. All of them died in an accident caused by a Molotov cocktail. Since Calix had decided on the number of people to carry out the plan from the time they started manufacturing the Molotov, the victims of this improvised bombing had been determined before it was carried out.
Well, although it was Glacies who specified the exact number of people, not me. But that was all. Calix acknowledged without difficulty that he was still a transgressor regardless and had crossed the line, then giggled.
Who cared? It was just part of the plan anyway, and he’s already a murderer, whether he added or subtracted personnel. He simply didn’t mention it in front of Margaret. Didn’t she also consider herself evil in the first place? He was stuck there for being a traitor, but if they didn’t know, that’s stupidity.
‘But with that much compassion, there’s no such thing as a saint.’
He was thinking like that.
In any case, the series of tragedies that Calix had not foretold were being forgotten absurdly quickly. Should he be happy if everything worked? It was possible because the problem was an ex-convict who was on the run after breaking out of prison and not a member of an underground organization that had already died.
“This is what criminals are.”
Those who died through terrorism using Molotov were those who acted as a contact between Calix and Glacies. The guild was brutal, worthy of its reputation, and failed to take advantage of Calix’s proposal and never reaped it. Their work was perfect and tidy, even without an executive named Taylor.
The most important task when manufacturing a Molotov cocktail is to prevent the leakage of inflammable substances to the outside. He recalled the sticky surface of the bottle with the flammable substance left on it and pondered the incident a few days ago.
The process of terrorism led by Calix Hamel and the cooperation of Glacies was simpler than expected. The guild has already selected the inmates who served as contacts between me and the guild members as victims of terror since the time when Calix called himself an informer, and when Calix called himself an informant, the guild immediately moved.
They loosened the bottleneck that would be thrown on the day of the attack and made preparations in advance so that the fire would not be easily extinguished by blocking the water and its source. At first, the Molotov cocktail thrown awkwardly at the main building in Sinalore was close to attracting attention. It could be said that it was part of the effort to eliminate the victim that Calix had simply pointed out while having an alibi.
Shortly after lighting the leaking bottles, they died very painfully. Afterward, the rest of the inmates distracted the prison guards by detonating them on a large scale using coal-dusted clothes as a catalyst.
Calix scolded himself for clicking his tongue at the fact that this process took three days. The prisoners who returned from the workhouse excitedly threw the Molotov that had been moved here.
Finally, by burning all the convoy wagons used to arrest them, they even opened the escape route, and they were truly perfect helpers.
It’s a funny thing. It is reasonable that security and internal order should be established to some extent as it is a place where serious criminals are accommodated, but it is because they are in a hurry and lose their reason in this fire.
Calix took out a shiny silver coin from his pocket and flicked it lightly.
“You wouldn’t have noticed even if I had dug a hole in the underground prison. After that, it goes without saying, it will explode successfully.”
Terrorism did not end once and for all. Calix Hamel ran his hair through his hair and hurried his steps happily. Excluding the prisoners, the number of deaths was six, and there were no injuries, to say the least.
He wondered if Margaret would understand this as well.
Glaciers wanted him to back down on his plan to blow up the workhouse. Here’s what they told the Grand Duke.
To cooperate with Taylor to escape from prison.
The guild promised additional cooperation without financial conditions, on the condition that the grand duke grants their request. If it was unexpected, it was surprising. Aren’t they the ones who called out the victims themselves, saying they didn’t need the losers?
So when Calix asked why they were looking for such a failure now, the guild didn’t give an exact answer. In any case, he agreed, and in prison, he gave the informants who had been deliberately captured the recipe for the Molotov used in the rebellion.
They were simply converted from a wick-throwing Molotov cocktail slightly differently, and the guild was amazed at this new type of Molotov cocktail.
Existing Molotov cocktails simply put flammable liquid in an airtight container that does not burn and then insert a wick into the mouth of the bottle or attach a match to the side to throw it. This new concept of the Molotov cocktail he came up with had a completely different structure and use.
Consisting of only petroleum and sulfuric acid instead of various materials to strengthen the firepower of alcohol or oil, it is not a common method of inserting a core but is made to ignite by chemical reactions alone by adding the contents and attaching the flammable paper to the surface.
Ignition was delayed, but since the paper that serves as a wick was attached to the body of the bottle, not the mouth of the bottle, it was possible to use it more conveniently than the existing Molotov by blocking the mouth and throwing it. It was also much safer. It was something that was going to be put to another use sooner or later. A preliminary test would have been sufficient, as the coachman of the convoy opened the lid to prove its explosive properties.
“It’s a pleasant memory.”
The Grand Duke continued walking through the night with a happy-looking gait.
“I’ll have to finish my work first and visit you.”
He fixed his eyes on a sign that glowed faintly in the moonlight in the distance. Then he saw a name written in fancy cursive.
The destination was right in front of him. Calix closed his black eyes, as bitter as night.
“Before that, it would be nice if you found me first.”
The hopeless obsession was devastating.
Calix Hamel’s escape from prison left no tangible evidence that he was the main culprit.
The terror attacks occurred continuously, without time difference, starting with the main building and the deputy at the time he was being tortured. Since most of the inmates at the scene had escaped, there was even less evidence to be caught. Because of this, the investigation of the case seemed distant.
The few credible explanations were the testimony of the supervisor of the workhouse, who was taking turns, but these were also too fragmentary to be of any help.
“Callix Hamel was here with Sir Hughes, the chief executive.
The Emperor nodded and spoke in a cool voice. Now, he said that it was my son’s job to deal with that person.
The prince gritted his teeth. Beatrice also had a dark expression. Kastiel contemplated it with a strange expression. The Emperor’s words were meant to test them and also were excuses to avoid troublesome situations.
Clark Hughes, who was kneeling in front of them, asked with his head bowed.
“Did you know about his ability?” (Prince)
“Of course.” (Emperor)
“Why are you all like that?” (Prince)
“… listen to what I say.” (Emperor)
“Your Highness, you’ve been complacent.” (Prince)
A traitor hasd escaped prison. It was obvious what kind of trouble it would bring to the empire. It was not something that the aged emperor, who was about to descend from the imperial throne, could handle, and the current crown prince had no tricks. In addition, the difficulty was that he was not the only one to escape from prison, which means that the ‘physical evidence’ that can identify the obvious mastermind has disappeared.
Since so many prisoners escaped from prison, that control of the situation would be impossible, and it was natural that the position of the crown prince, who had not yet become emperor, would become unstable. Beatrice could not be sure that she would not be harmed. It was the same with Kastiel. The crown prince and Beatrice looked at the knight, who remained silent.
“The means of terrorism is a Molotov cocktail…”
“That’s right. The loss of the building is also a loss, and all those who threw the firebomb have been burned, so we can’t interrogate them. There are reports that similar items were used when the traitor attacked the palace, but… If we exclude the evidence, Calix Hamel has a clear alibi.”
Because I’mhe was the one who interrogated him. Clark said and shook his head. Of course, there was a doubt. Perhaps they all know that Calix Hamel is the leader. But they found no further substantive evidence.
Beatrice bit her lip. The prince also had a similar reaction. They all knew that the knight in front of them didn’t lie. The ministers standing around were also unable to open their mouths hastily.
The Emperor clicked his tongue and interjected.
“Then, that means that outside forces are involved. It’s been a while since the rebellion ended.”
And that was all. After appraising the situation as if contemplating it, he turned around and left. The crown prince, Beatrice, and even Clark didn’t seem to feel particularly strange about this situation. Kastiel looked at his back and asked himself.
The crown of an empire isn’t that too quiet an end for the pinnacle of power? At least he was a person far above his son, the crown prince. He was acting as if he had completely withdrawn from politics. Well, there’s nothing new about it now.
‘In the end, I’m just a supporting character.’
Kastiel chewed out a dull curse on God, who might or might not be there, and then turned his eyes as if Clark had to continue talking.
“There is one thing I would like to know. Did your Highness really believe that he would stay quietly in that prison?”
The prince, or Damon, raised his eyebrows and asked ferociously.
“What are you trying to say? If you dare to criticize the prince for being complacent, you should be grateful to still be alive.”
“Yes, I know. Recently, Your Highness has been trying to show the Emperor that he lacks nothing. I am also aware of my rudeness.”
“We will not deny our prison mistakes. Yes, I was complacent. There is nothing to say if I die for neglecting my duty. However-”
The voice that continued talking was trembling too much. Clarke recalled those demonic black eyes and managed to finish his words through all the disillusionment and fear.
Why didn’t he take immediate action? When Florencia’s execution was postponed, why didn’t he also postpone his death? Why did Sir Kestiel agree to vacate the place?
“Your Highness, did you really think that something like that could stop him?”
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