Black Crow Prison (15) Solitary Confinement

The black leather boots of the prison guard struck the corridor’s tiled floor with a dull thud. He stood half a step behind Mu Xinning, his cap brim pulled lower. The violent rage he had shown earlier when dragging Zhang Dafu away had vanished without a trace, replaced only by a nearly rigid respect.

“Please follow me,” he said hoarsely, deliberately softening his tone—not out of kindness, but as if afraid to disturb something.

Zhou Kui and Zheng Kai exchanged confused glances.

Although Zhou Kui had mentally prepared himself—if Number 3 dared to fight, she surely wasn’t afraid of solitary confinement—what puzzled him more now was the guard’s attitude.

Was she possessed or something? Why the sudden change in demeanor?

This girl looked like nothing more than a little girl… even a burly man like Zhang Dafu was dragged away without protest, but with Number 3, she was being politely invited upstairs? Did that make sense?

Mu Xinning raised an eyebrow. It seemed the rumor that she was harboring an evil god wasn’t even challenged by the NPCs; nowadays, even rabbits could pretend to be tigers.

After all, if you ignored Jin’s presence, she was just an ordinary person.

She said nothing and followed the guard toward the iron door leading to the fifth floor.

Mu Xinning left the hospital under the stunned gazes of the two men. Zheng Kai scratched his head and asked, “Brother Zhou, what do we do now?”

Zhou Kui pinched the bridge of his nose. “Those two might still come back, just wait. For now, let’s get some food—I’m starving.” Today had already been surprising enough; he just wanted a good meal and some rest.

The guard inserted the key into the lock. As the door creaked open, a wave of damp cold air mixed with the scent of rust and dust hit them.

The stairway to the fifth floor was steeper than expected, with thin layers of dust on the step edges, clearly seldom traveled.

The guard led the way, and after a long climb, they finally reached the fifth floor.

“We’re here,” the guard said, stopping in front of a weathered iron door and pushing it open.

The hinges screeched sharply as the scene inside gradually came into view.

The entire floor was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from an old, dim bulb embedded in the ceiling. Its faint yellow glow barely illuminated the rows of solitary confinement cells lining the corridor on both sides.

The iron doors were rust-streaked, the air thick with mildew. The concrete floor beneath was sticky and slippery—an undeniably harsh environment.

Mu Xinning deliberately slowed her pace to better observe the layout. Aside from the cells lining the sides, her gaze fixed tightly on the corridor’s far end.

There, between the cells, stood an elevator.

Jin’s voice eagerly echoed in her mind: “Isn’t this the elevator you’ve been looking for?”

“Your cell is at the end,” the guard said, stepping aside with ever more reverence, avoiding her gaze altogether.

Blessed be.

Mu Xinning nodded. When they reached the cell nearest the elevator, the guard unlocked the door.

“Go in. Your confinement is for 24 hours,” the guard urged from behind, still not daring to come too close.

She stepped inside, the heavy iron door closing slowly behind her with a muffled thud, the lock clicking shut distinctly.

The guard then entered the room opposite hers. The two cells closest to the elevator—a left cell for Mu Xinning and a right cell serving as the monitoring room.

The confinement cell differed from the usual prison rooms: while prison doors allowed only a small window to peer out once closed, these had iron bars, allowing direct visibility into the corridor.

Still, this floor had no windows, and the lighting was much dimmer than the lower levels, making it difficult to see clearly.

Mu Xinning approached the barred door, focusing intently on the elevator nearby. Its display showed the number 5, indicating the elevator was currently on this floor.

But where did it lead? Underground? The rooftop? Or perhaps a hidden floor? That remained uncertain.

Inside the cell was only a stone bed and a simple toilet—no blanket in sight.

Her expression unchanged, she hugged her doll tightly and murmured to herself, “Looks like I’ll have to make do here tonight.”

Jin’s voice, tinged with melancholy, whispered, “If you feel cold tonight… I can wrap around you as I slept before…”

Just like at the start, Jin longed for that soft, comforting feeling.

Mu Xinning decisively declined. “The monitoring room is right opposite—I don’t want to cause unnecessary trouble.” She then sat on the stone bed and reviewed the current intelligence.

The fifth floor was simply a detention area for prisoners. The biggest gain from coming here was discovering the elevator.

That was crucial information—whether for exploration or an escape route, it could prove invaluable. Being confined for a day was a small price to pay.

The problem lay in the second rule…

“Without special permission, do not use the elevator!”

Who granted this so-called special permission? Who held such authority?

Her first thought was the prison guards. This elevator belonged to the fifth floor, with a monitoring room right beside it—no matter how she looked at it, the guards seemed the most likely candidates.

But then again, almost all five floors had been explored already, yet the dungeon boss had yet to appear…

The dungeon boss was unique to S-level dungeons—only dungeons of that rank or higher contained a boss.

In her previous life, she had been weak, never even entering a B-level dungeon, let alone S-level. Naturally, she’d never encountered a boss.

Rumor said bosses were brutally fierce creatures. Yet, so far, none of the non-player characters she met fit that description.

She could only guess the boss might be on the rooftop—after all, it was the execution ground, so surely waiting up there.

Dungeon bosses rarely appeared personally, but if players encountered them, the bosses would kill them in the most ruthless ways. That was what she had heard from others.

Though players spoke of bosses with terror, the chance of meeting one was minuscule; it was only known that such beings existed in the dungeon.

She recalled a veteran who had been fortunate enough to kill a boss, saying it had taken the combined strength of many players to barely defeat it.

But not every player received the boss kill reward—only the one delivering the fatal blow claimed the prize.

Thus, teaming up to kill a boss was pointless—exhausting and thankless if you weren’t the final striker, yet impossible to kill alone.

Hence the S-level unwritten rule among players: “Kill the boss on your own, or else burn three incense sticks daily and pray you never meet it.”

Mu Xinning thought that made sense. The boss rewards were just too generous—no wonder no one wanted to share.

Even if the boss couldn’t be defeated, clearing an S-level dungeon guaranteed an item reward.

Compared to lower-level dungeons, where exhausting effort might yield no item at all, the guaranteed reward of S-level dungeons was irresistible.

No wonder those veteran players loved farming S-level dungeons—like Zhou Kui, who ignored攻略 for other S-levels just to venture into Tiger Mountain.

Quite the stubborn one.

Mu Xinning reflected on the variety of people in this world.

Each dungeon could be entered only once; once the boss was killed, the dungeon closed permanently. No matter how many攻略 appeared afterward, you couldn’t re-enter to farm items.

Dungeons below S-level never closed but had very low item drop rates after completion.

In her previous life, S-level dungeon closures were rare, underscoring just how formidable their bosses were.

Mu Xinning closed her eyes and lay on the stone bed.

Now that Jin was with her, if she encountered a dungeon boss, she might just have a fighting chance.