The Warden of The Witches

Chapter 10:



Chapter 10:

Chapter 10:

The Understanding Warden

The solitary confinement cell in the Rose Prison was a room with an area of less than three square meters. The only facilities were a squat toilet and a basin with water.

There wasn't even a bed, the inmates had to lie on the floor next to the squat toilet and cover themselves with a blanket to sleep.

The room had no windows, only a food port on the iron door and a small grille on top for communication with the outside world.

For a prisoner in solitary confinement, everything from eating, drinking to using the restroom and sleeping had to be done in this cramped space of less than three square meters. Everydays was truly felt like years.

Compared to this, a regular cell would feel like paradise, which is why the prison used solitary confinement as a disciplinary measure for inmates who violated rules.

Aiden personally led Veronica into the solitary confinement cell, closed the iron door, and then went outside to fetch a chair to sit by the doorway.

"Why are you sitting here?" Veronica stood in front of the iron door, frowning and staring at him.

"The solitary confinement cell is supposed to be supervised. If a prisoner were to harm themselves in there, it would be a big problem," Aiden replied calmly.

"At least get a female guard. If you sit here, how am I supposed to use the restroom?" Veronica glared at him harshly.

"Don't worry, I'll leave after a few words," Aiden said, placing a wax-paper package in the food slot. "Hungry?"

"What's this?" Veronica didn't immediately take it, but she could already smell the fragrant aroma emanating from the wax-paper package— a werewolf's nose is much more sensitive than that of an ordinary person.

"You'll find out when you open it."

Veronica skeptically opened the wax-paper package, and a burst of hot air carrying the intense aroma rushed out. Inside the wax paper were several pieces of roasted chicken wings and thighs.

Veronica instinctively swallowed her saliva. In the late night, the smell of grease, spices, and honey roasted by the fire was particularly enticing.

But she still restrained herself, watching Aiden warily. "You're not trying to slip something weird, are you?"

"You can spare me. I don't want to lose my job yet," Aiden smiled disdainfully. "The food's are here. Eat it if you want."

Veronica hesitated for a moment, then finally took the wax-paper package and turned around, leaning against the iron door to sit down.

"What exactly do you want?" she asked through the iron door.

"I've told you, I just want to chat with you. Monitoring the mental health of inmates is also part of the warden's job."

"Mental health? What nonsense are you talking about?" Veronica looked puzzled.

"I'm not joking with you. I've established a position for providing psychological counseling to inmates in this prison," Aiden said with a serious tone.

"Occasionally, I also have face-to-face conversations with inmates, being an understanding warden for a moment."

The addition of a psychological correction position was something Aiden had learned from his previous life's experience.

Before he became the warden, he had already implemented this measure. The prison system in this world was still quite rudimentary. While there were already psychologists outside, no one had ever thought to focus on the psychological issues of the criminals.

"But what do we have to talk about?" Veronica relaxed a bit.

"There are plenty of things, like our interests, hobbies, and annual income..."

"Are you trying to set up a blind date with a death row inmate?" Veronica understood his joke and also cracked a smile.

"Then, let's talk about your thought process behind the murders."

"I didn't kill anyone." The smile vanished from Veronica's face in an instant, and her voice became heavier.

"Then tell me how you were wronged," Aiden seamlessly continued.

"You..." Veronica was momentarily stunned. "Do you... believe that I've been wronged?"

"How could I?" Aiden answered without hesitation. "This is a prison, filled with thieves, robbers, fraudsters... and murderers. While I won't say there are no genuinely good people here, there are only a handful of them.

Rarely does a criminal face their own guilt seriously. Each one believes they've been wronged. In our line of work, the biggest Taboo was trusting inmates too easily."

"Then why are you asking me?" Veronica's eyes dimmed.

"Although I currently don't believe you, I'm willing to listen," Aiden calmly stated, leaning back in his chair. "I've reviewed your case, and there are indeed some thing that can't be explained."

Veronica fell into a long, long silence, to the point where Aiden wondered if she had fallen asleep.

Finally, Veronica spoke, "When you ask me like this, I don't even know what to say. If I had actually killed someone, there would be plenty for me to confess. But the fact is, I didn't kill anyone.

That day, I was patrolling just like any other day, and I went home after work, just like always. Then the next day, I was inexplicably arrested."

"I read in the case file that on the morning of the incident, you had a conflict with the victim. Is that true?" Aiden asked methodically.

"Yes, they were selling counterfeit alcohol in their shop, so I arrested the owner. Then the family came to the police station to cause a scene, which happens often." Veronica calmly recounted,

"That person cursed at me and even tried to obstruct my work. I was prepared to detain her as well, but my colleague stopped me."

"How did she curse at you?"

"I don't remember the specifics, but the most offensive thing she said was that I was the daughter of a whore who mated with a stray dog."

"To be honest, wouldn't that kind of insult make anyone lose their temper?"

Aiden admitted to himself that hearing such an extreme insult was bound to be infuriating.

But Veronica let out a cold laugh. "Hah, if just a sentence like that could drive someone to murder, then I should have started killing people at the age of eight and kept going until now.

Warden, you're a normal person, so you probably can't understand what it's like to be different from others from birth.

I spent almost six years in the Mounted Police. There are people there who diligently do their duty, and there are also scoundrels who abuse their authority.

Even if I don't compare myself to them, I believe I've been very dedicated. But even so, every month, anonymous letters are sent to the police station, criticizing me and hoping that my superiors will dismiss me.

The only reason is that because I'm a werewolf. The things written in those letters are even more vile than what's that woman said."

"Alright, then..." Aiden felt a bit awkward for a moment, quickly steering the conversation back on track. "On that day, when did you return the issued firearm?"

"Exactly at half-past twelve," Veronica promptly answered.

"The victim was killed at twenty past twelve, so that's why you came under suspicion," Aiden nodded.

"The crime scene was in the area you were patrolling, weren't you nearby at the time?"

"Because of what happened in the morning that day, I was transferred to patrol in a different jurisdiction at evening.

My superiors were worried that I might cause a disturbance when passing by that tavern."

"But the investigation team still concluded that you quietly went to that tavern to commit murder while on patrol, because one bullet was missing from the firearm you stored in the armory," Aiden brought up the crucial evidence.

"I honestly don't know what happened with that..." Veronica lowered her eyes.

"That day, I only returned the firearm as usual. I even checked it while taking it and didn't fire it at any point."

"Are You serious?" Aiden suddenly frowned.

"I'm telling the truth. Believe it or not, it's up to you."

Veronica responded with irritation. Aiden's sudden suspicion made her feel uncomfortable.

"No, I mean, do you really not understand what's going on? If you didn't kill the person, then there's only one possibility," Aiden pointed out.

"What are you saying?" Veronica perked up her ears in surprise.

"If what you're saying is true, then it's clear that someone on duty in the armory fabricated evidence to frame you."


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