I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 388: You should suffer before you die

Jack stood from his desk before Alaric told everyone. ”Let’s go.”

The group moved as one, Jack, Alaric, S, and Father Caelen filing out of the study and into the manor’s corridors. Their footsteps echoed against polished floors as they made their way toward the entrance where Finn waited.

Jack glanced at Father Caelen. ”Get supplies ready. Meet me at Draven’s shrine in forty-five minutes.”

Father Caelen bowed slightly. ”Of course, young master.” He split off from the group, heading toward the storage rooms where medical supplies and dungeon provisions were kept.

The remaining three continued forward, their pace steady. Servants moved aside as they passed, bowing low and keeping their eyes down. The Duke’s presence alone commanded respect, but Jack’s cold focus made even experienced staff uneasy.

They reached the entrance hall. Finn stood near the main doors, his tall frame silhouetted against morning light streaming through the windows. His eyepatch was black against his weathered face.

He stood straight with his arms behind his back as he waited for his lord. Next to him, chained and kneeling, was George.

The man was a wreck. Bruises covered his face in shades of purple and yellow. His clothes were torn and filthy, stained with dirt and dried blood.

Iron chains bound his wrists and ankles, the links heavy enough to prevent any hope of escape. His eyes were wild. Darting between the approaching nobles with the desperation of prey that knew death was close.

Finn’s single eye tracked the Young Master approaching. His expression remained neutral, but something flickered beneath that careful control.

”Duke Alaric,” Finn said, bowing low. ”Young Master Jack.” His gaze shifted to S, studied the contract demon for a moment, then returned to Alaric. ”I’ve returned as ordered.”

”So I see,” Alaric replied, his golden eyes dropping to George. ”Good work, Finn.”

George made a strangled sound, trying to speak through his split and swollen lips. ”Please... I didn’t....”

”Quiet,” Finn said flatly, his boot connecting with George’s shoulder hard enough to knock him forward. The prisoner caught himself with his chained hands, gasping.

Alaric gestured toward the corridor leading deeper into the manor. ”Take him to the underground cells.”

Finn grabbed the chains connecting George’s wrists and hauled him upright. The prisoner stumbled, his legs barely supporting his weight after what had clearly been a brutal journey.

But Finn showed no sympathy, simply dragging him forward as the group moved deeper into the Kaiser manor’s hidden levels.

Jack walked beside his father, his mind already calculating what needed to happen next. Behind them, S followed with that characteristic silent grace, his red eyes gleaming with interest.

He retrieved a tangerine from his jacket pocket with the effortless demeanor of someone accustomed to having them readily available, meticulously peeling it as they descended.

They descended stairs that most servants didn’t know existed. The temperature dropped as they went deeper, the air growing stale and cold. Torches flickered to life automatically as they passed.

The cells were at the bottom. A level that existed for precisely this kind of situation. When the Kaiser family needed to hold someone.

The space was simple. Stone walls. Stone floor. No windows. A single chair bolted to the ground in the center of the room. Chains hung from the walls and ceiling, ready to restrain whatever needed restraining.

Darkness pressed in from all sides, broken only by the torches they’d brought with them.

Finn dragged George to the chair and shoved him down. The prisoner tried to struggle, but exhaustion and fear had robbed him of strength.

Finn worked quickly, securing George’s arms to the chair’s armrests with iron manacles. More chains wrapped around his chest and legs, binding him completely.

When Finn stepped back, George was immobile. Trapped.

Jack activated Flawed Sight, his eyes brightening as information flooded his vision.

[Finn ??]

[Level: 75]

[Affinity: Fire, Earth, ??]

Strength: 272

Stamina: 112

Agility: 143

Vitality: 125

Endurance: 111

Magic: 262

Mana: 1,876

HP: 6,727

Magic Talent Rank: S

Martial Talent Rank: A

Level seventy-five. Strong for a former chosen one.

Jack was interested in his stats since he unlocked Flawed Sight.

Jack dismissed the skill, refocusing on the present.

Alaric stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow that swallowed the prisoner. His golden eyes studied George with the detached interest of someone examining an insect.

”Do you know who I am?” Alaric asked, his voice calm.

George nodded frantically, tears streaming down his bruised face. ”Duke Alaric... please, I...”

”Do you know what you did?”

”I...” George’s voice broke. ”I made mistakes. I was desperate. I didn’t mean—”

”You raped women,” Alaric interrupted, his tone never changing from that flat calm. ”You murdered their husbands. You took their children. You tortured families for your own entertainment.” He leaned closer. ”And you think calling it a mistake changes anything?”

”Please!” George sobbed. ”I’ll do anything! I’ll....”

”You’ll suffer,” Alaric said with a beastly smile. ”Your suffering will be worse than anything you’ve already endured. Worse than anything you inflicted on your victims. And when you finally die, no one will remember your name.”

George’s sobs became hysterical. His body shook against the chains, trying desperately to break free. But the iron held. The chair didn’t move.

Finn stood near the wall, his single eye tracking between Jack and the prisoner. His expression remained neutral, but Jack caught the way Finn’s gaze lingered on him.

Recognizing how much Jack had changed since they’d last met.

Alaric turned toward Jack. ”I want to see what type of punishment you give him.”

The words hung in the cold air. A test. A chance for Jack to prove he understood what it meant to be a Kaiser.

Jack met Finn’s gaze. ”It’s rude to stare.”

Finn blinked, his attention snapping back to focus.

”Leave,” Jack continued, his voice carrying quiet authority. ”You can’t see what I’m about to do.”

Finn’s single eye narrowed slightly. Then understanding dawned. His hand moved to his eyepatch, touching it briefly as if confirming it was still there. When he looked at Jack again, that understanding had deepened into something else.

He closed his one good eye. ”Understood.”

Alaric studied his son for a moment, then nodded. ”Come, Finn. Let’s give Jack privacy.”

The two men left, their footsteps echoing up the stairs. The door at the top closed with a heavy thud, and the sound of a lock sliding into place echoed through the cell.

Silence.

Jack stood in the torchlight, his red eyes fixed on George’s trembling form. S remained by the wall, patient and still, popping a segment of tangerine into his mouth with the unhurried grace of someone watching a particularly dull stage play.

”What will you do with him?” S asked, his voice carrying genuine curiosity. He chewed slowly, savoring the citrus.

Jack walked closer to the chair. George’s sobs had quieted to desperate whimpering, his eyes following Jack’s movement with animal terror.

”Tell me what you did,” Jack said, his tone clinical. ”All of it.”

George’s voice cracked. ”I—I killed men. Husbands. Fathers.” The words came out in gasps between sobs. ”I took their women. Their families. I...” His voice broke completely. ”I made them watch. Made them suffer. And then...Then I killed them all.”

”How many families?”

”Twelve.” George’s head dropped. ”Twelve families. Maybe more. I lost count.”

Jack’s expression didn’t change.

”You should suffer before you die,” Jack said.”