A Wish to Grab Happiness

In the southeastern part of the Kingdom of Garrist there is a prison with two names given to it which means burial. First name, Burial Prison Bella.

Literally, what was housed there, of course, remains alive, not even a corpse can return. The last place they say is when you go inside, you become bones, you become ashes, you die.

Its original role was not in prisons where resentment sounded, etc., but only in prisons. It is also said that the predecessor, known as the Architectural King, was a relay fort set up between the front line and the

Away from the capital and from the front line, and then when the water moat covering the perimeter was worthy of the building of the prison, it was replaced by what it is today after it became the king's reign.

I put up a surveillance tower to never let the prisoners inside escape, this prison. Unexpectedly, it is not the bandit leaders or those in power in the back streets who are caught in such a place. Rather, there are many people who do not kill each other. Anyway, criminals like murderers and burglars are turned to unspeakable manual labor.

What is happening here is not cheap manual labor, etc., but the act of rupturing fingers and tearing limbs apart. Torture to spit out information. In other words, they are captured by people who are called thinkers or heretics.

A rebel who hopes not to overthrow the country. A fool who believes in paganism as supreme. A magician who confuses people. If I give you an example, there is no reason why someone should inherit the idea, even if it is crushed or crushed. It's as if ideas are one asset, they make inheritance.

So we need a mechanism to cut it off, the governor says. Wise men say that there is no peace in the nation if we do not eradicate all of it so that we can hear the names of our fellow citizens from their mouths and pull the potatoes out of the ground.

Burial prison Bella. This place exists for this reason. To make the mouths of both thinkers and heretics crack, and never let them tread on the outside land again.

Someone is still burning down his throat in prison vera and spitting blood instead of his voice today. That's the place, everyday tea rice.

Some of those prisons are naturally working people, guards. One of the guards leaked his words in a terribly irritating tone as he ate a poor minister's meal in the dining room. Cold stone walls reflect dull sounds.

"- You're kidding me, what the hell is that bitch?"

What a rough, rough tone I couldn't hide the roughness.

The guards gathering in Bella, the burial prison, are two people. One is a state follower who has gained some emotion close to fanaticism that he wants to do so himself with a deep allegiance to the state and a human head that avenges the state.

So the other is the rough guys, who are just bragging about their arms wearing guard uniforms. Those who were pushed into this prison because of their violent and unscrupulous attitude, even though they were good guards, because they had no work to do in a very ordinary prison, and because they were troublemakers.

So apparently, the man who is scattering this dissatisfaction out of his mouth, is the latter.

Around the man, guards of a similar kind gathered to listen to a story that could be zeroed out of his mouth. In places like this where there is little entertainment, the pleasant thing is to hold a woman, someone else's discontent, or misfortune. For those stories, people come closer even if they leave them alone. That's like a leech sucking on a wound.

The man exhales his own depression as he takes his gaze from his surroundings comfortably.

"2066. How could that woman be forgiven for such freedom?"

In a way that is so unreasonable, the man said. Some of the guards around them give their consent and ask what the stranger is talking about.

Says 2066 and how strangely the prisoner called by that number is pardoned his freedom in this burial prison Bella while he is a prisoner. A private room is provided as if it were a VIP room, under house arrest, not confinement. You are even allowed to leave the premises to some extent. And when I saw it, the warden didn't even say anything, and he kept his mouth shut. He said he even attached it to someone who looked like an escort.

The man tells us whether such freedom should be pardoned to prisoners. Being imprisoned here shakes the nation and hurts His Majesty the King. Even the freedom to breathe to such a person should not be allowed, he says greatly.

The guards around them were somehow beginning to get a faint idea of why this man suddenly started saying such dissatisfaction.

The point is, this man, he tried to get his hands on the female prisoner's body, even if he was bounced. Because that depressing sunshine is unfulfilled, this is how it sounds crappy stupidity here.

But the guards didn't even know what it was like to be a man. In any case, in Burial Prison Bella, a prisoner is close to a tool that a guard can freely use.

There are, of course, some rules, and when it comes to prisoners, killing them is punishable. Nevertheless, I have never heard of blame on my body to the extent that I like it. Especially for the crests, who have often been imprisoned these days, it is treated like letting go.

It is easy to imagine that, despite that state of affairs, if a prisoner suddenly appeared unintended, the frustration would swell up in the chest of the guard who thought of it.

Besides, rumor 2066 looks strangely sharp and attractive, bewildering to touch. It's only then that I know the indignation of a man.

Well, why don't we sneak into the room in multiple tonight? That's when the conversation started, someone said.

"You guys don't know. Get your hands on that woman. If we're bad, we're gonna be prisoners."

Everyone around you listens to the voice as it catches a little eye. Just saying what the hell you're talking about, I turned my gaze to the guard everyone spoke to. The guard said, diving his voice as he distorted his lips bitterly.

- That woman is Rugis the Great Sinner and the raised parent of Arueno the Virgin.

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

Prisoner number 2066. That was the name of the Lord Nines of the orphanage, in prison Bella.

Nothing. I've never thought that name was bad. Instead, I have been called by many names before, so it wasn't that bad considering it was one of them.

Anything that seems rather creepy would be my treatment.

When the Nines sit back on a bed close by, it returns so much softness that they don't think it will be prepared for the prisoner. Private rooms can never be described as cramped either, much bigger than lousy lodgings. The upper door is not locked and it will not be easy if you exit the premises, but it will be possible to walk around somewhat freely.

That's an incredible courtesy in Bella, who was called a burial prison. That's what it's like to treat noble prisoners like that.

Nines was sober but understanding what the hell this was all about. Still, creepy things are creepy.

Once I grew up and sent him to the cathedral, Arueno.

I guess I am being treated like this because that child is on the path as the Virgin of the Catholic Church. If Nines had been executed as a heretic, and the Virgin had blamed it more than ever, it was not surprising that the person responsible had broken the gate. It means that what belongs to the Catholic Church is above all fearful, falling zero from God's salvation. Only then can we snort at this kind of treatment.

And Nines gently wrapped his purple hair around his fingertips, wondering if his incarceration in prison Bella also depended on the presence of the child he had raised.

- Rugis, that kid. After it grows darkless.

Big sinner. Bad man. So, golden. Those are just two names that float in the lid, very unlikely to come to mind from a poor child. But the warden politely told me that it was an indisputable fact.

Raising parents of the great sinner Rugis. That's why Nines was imprisoned in the burial prison Bella.

Perhaps Nines dampens his lips when he has not yet revealed himself to be a crest. Doubt will hang, but you still shouldn't be sure.

If it brightens up, you won't be treated as much as the Virgin Raising Parent. It must have been tortured for you, or poisoned with food.

The fact that freedom is now pardoned while in prison is only because I still have suspicions. Nothing more than the Catholic Virgin and the Great Sinner, two children, shaking their own balance.

Yes, it's a brittle balance that's likely to collapse lightly if something is piled up later. The balance creates a distorted status quo of being in prison and receiving benefits.

- Not worse than I thought, but still, it's hard to say it's good.

Nines stiffens his lips as he leaks his exhale without knowing the circumstances surrounding him now. I can't help being captured. I have no regrets that I should have done so to keep the others alive. Given the circumstances, it was not better to disappear without darkness.

But still, what's lost is huge.

If, at any rate, you lose yourself as a spindle among the crests lurking in the kingdom of Garrist, it will not be easy to receive information from the Virgin Mattia or Anne, nor will you be able to provide only modest support. Even though he said that crest hunting is turning into a whirlwind around Garrist to increase its momentum.

Nines frowned for a moment and still quickly retooled his expression.

I can't act too conspicuously in this prison on a boulder. It won't be easy to write one letter. He says the crest religion has emitted troops, but he doesn't get any information after that. All the things I can't do, all the things I don't know. Cold agitation licks Nines breasts.

What is it, something?

Those pitiful eyes change shape in every way. Some thoughts come to mind and disappear each time. None of this, just a proposal that's not going to happen so easily. With Anne, things would have been a little different.

Nines cheeks, accidentally, collapse as I keep coming to mind with that idea. Something was wrong with my imagination, and my laughter leaked out of my lips like I couldn't handle it.

It's a stupid idea. Um, there's so much to be kidding about, like, putting expectations on a kid who was always impotent and scolded by Arueno.

- But, well, I don't mind. I can't move now. Then you can let the hero expect a little from you.

Behind the lids of the Nines, the figure of a child once picked up on the back road was clearly emerging.