The North Pole Prison, located—as its name suggests—at the northernmost point of the North Pole, was situated over 500 meters beneath the Earth's surface. Here, the world's most vicious and notorious criminals were imprisoned. No one in history had ever escaped.

Then, an elevator ascended from the depths. The doors slowly opened, and a man with a scruffy face emerged.

"Congratulations on your release," a burly guard said gruffly.

A striking middle-aged woman solemnly addressed the newly freed prisoner. "You'll be a free man once you pass through that gate."

Severin Feuillet, fresh from prison, glanced at the gate with mixed emotions. "I could have left anytime I wanted."

The middle-aged woman's lips parted slightly, but she remained silent. She couldn't refute his claim. Among the multitude of evil individuals imprisoned below were notorious spies, warlords, and even leaders of major underworld organizations—all subdued by Severin. They were nothing to him.

Three years prior, Dracodom was at war, struggling against invading foreign powers. The kingdom sent four young people to train under Severin. In just six months, he transformed them into seasoned warriors who swiftly turned the tide of the war, becoming Dracodom's celebrated war heroes.

Reaching the gate, Severin paused, turned, and gazed intently at the imposing prison. He knelt and kowtowed three times. "Old Wacko! I'm leaving! Thank you for looking after me these past five years!"

Emotion welled up within him. Upon his arrival, he'd witnessed an elderly, gray-haired man being bullied and deprived of food. Severin had willingly shared half his rations with him.

The old man, nicknamed "Old Wacko" for his constant ramblings about immortality, was largely ignored or abused, yet he remained unfazed. Severin was the only one who spoke to him daily, earning the nickname "Little Wacko." Severin later discovered Old Wacko was a brilliant scholar who shared his knowledge.

Severin's release coincided with Old Wacko's departure, though their destinations differed. The heavy steel gate clanged shut behind Severin.

"Greetings, Master!"

Four figures—two middle-aged men, an older man, and a middle-aged woman—knelt in unison. Dracodom's elite would have been astonished by this display of respect; these were the Four War Heroes who had saved the kingdom.

Severin frowned. "Why are you here?"

They rose, the older man speaking respectfully. "As your disciples, we are bound to greet you upon your release."

"I presume you're all doing well?" Severin asked curtly, glancing at their medals.

"Master, we are known as the Four Great War Heroes of Dracodom. We have power, glory, and our own territories!" the middle-aged woman proudly explained.

Severin replied impassively, "Glad you haven't tarnished my reputation."

They were secretly delighted; compliments from Severin were rare.

"Master, here's a Supreme VIP card with a 1.5 billion overdraft. Use it as you please; I'll replenish it," the middle-aged woman offered, handing him a bank card with a smile.

A middle-aged man offered him a territory to rule. The old man suggested a meeting with his granddaughter. Another middle-aged man proposed the governorship of Middlebridge province.

Severin shook his head. "I only want peace with my parents and Lucy. I need to make amends for my past mistakes. I don't even know how they are."

"Won't you at least accept the card?" the middle-aged woman asked anxiously. They felt obligated to repay his kindness.

"Give me a cell phone with your contact information. I'll visit when I can," Severin said faintly, touching a simple ring—his only memento of Old Wacko.

A middle-aged man immediately produced a new phone. "Our numbers are saved."

Severin nodded. "Do you have a cigarette?" A pack was promptly offered.

After a long drag, he said with gratitude, "Thank you. Don't worry about me. I'm your master; I can survive. Besides, I've reached 'that' level."

"That level?"

They exchanged shocked glances.

"Take me to Brookbourn before nightfall," Severin requested.

"Certainly!" They replied in unison. As the sun set, Severin stood before Brookbourn's gates.

"Are you sure you want nothing else, Master?" the middle-aged man pressed.

Severin smiled, gazing at the familiar city. "Go, or you'll be in the headlines! [Remove promotional sentence]"

The war heroes departed in their helicopter. Severin entered a modest residential area, approaching a familiar house. He sighed at the number; this was to be his home with Lucy Orwell. Years ago, after a drunken gambling spree, he'd lost and was forced to sign away Lucy to Easton Lough.

That night, Easton had brought Severin to the house, intending to assault Lucy in front of him. Lucy's screams sobered Severin, leading him to smash a beer bottle over Easton's head. The wealthy and influential Loughs ensured Severin's ten-year prison sentence. Lucy had promised to wait for him.

"I bet you'll be surprised by my early release!"

He pushed open the slightly ajar door. 'They must be home!' he thought. "No, don't be naughty"

Approaching the master bedroom, he heard Lucy's voice.

"What's going on here?"

A pang of pain shot through Severin's heart. He burst open the door, glaring at the two figures on the bed.