Chapter Forty-Nine: I Really Like This Job!

“But say something, Butcher Zhang! That’s an outstanding candidate. Old Master An Yingxiong personally vouched for him with me. I guarantee that Lin Yi’s potential is far from F-class. The only reason I haven’t made it public is to keep him safe from those demons and monsters who might target him. Lin Yi despises the demonic and the supernatural; he insisted on coming to the Demon Prison. Otherwise, how could you lot in the prison ever hope to have such a genius? And you still object? Are you trying to get Lin Yi killed?”

For a long while, Butcher Zhang’s corpse-like face remained silent in the video feed before he finally spoke.

“Heh.”

That single scoff enraged Lin Tianming to the point of near madness. He clenched his teeth and fists, wishing he could punch Butcher Zhang through the screen.

“In the Demon Prison, no one is allowed to leave before reaching level ten. If Lin Yi wants to switch freely between being a Demon Prison guard and external duty, he must at least attain the rank of Grandmaster. Otherwise, it’s out of the question. We’re already being lenient by not forcing Lin Yi to stay in the Demon Prison twenty-four hours a day. Don’t you know how short-staffed we are, Lin Tianming?”

With a click, Butcher Zhang hung up before Lin Tianming could begin cursing.

Lin Tianming’s anger only intensified. Forcing Lin Yi to reach Grandmaster before being allowed to come and go—was this intentional obstruction? Even if Lin Yi’s potential was S-class, it would take him until at least thirty to reach Grandmaster. Did that mean Lin Yi would be trapped in the Demon Prison for years?

He wanted to call back, but no matter how many times he tried, Butcher Zhang refused to answer.

Furious, Lin Tianming decided he would go in person to the Demon Prison that very night to have a proper talk with Butcher Zhang.

…

Unaware of these machinations, Lin Yi swiped his staff card. The heavy, rune-inscribed electromagnetic door before him slowly opened, leaving only a narrow entryway for a single person.

Without hesitation, Lin Yi entered.

No sooner had he stepped inside than a wave of overwhelming, ominous energy crashed down upon him.

An ordinary person subjected to this sinister energy would be gripped by inexplicable terror, plagued by hallucinations and dread.

But as quickly as the energy surged, it receded. Only the entrance was so thick with it; a few steps further in, the oppressive force lessened.

Most prisons had similar layouts. The Demon Prison, for all its name, was just a prison at its core. However, as its inmates were demons and vengeful spirits—some mere energy forms—even the first level was fortified with dense runes and state-of-the-art technology embedded in every wall, door, and window.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

As the door opened, eyes peered from the long, dim corridor beyond, illuminated to a brightness akin to daylight. Yet the thick ominous energy made it hard to see clearly.

As the footsteps drew closer, Lin Yi finally made out a group calling out to him.

“Here he is, here he is! Our great prodigy—welcome to the Demon Prison! We all admire your courage. If we weren’t seeking a breakthrough or had committed some grave mistake and been sent here as punishment, none of us would’ve come voluntarily!”

“Take our advice, kid—leave now while you still can. This is no place for someone with a bright future.”

…

Everywhere he went, people urged him to leave.

These Demon Prison staff, almost without exception, tried to persuade Lin Yi that he was better off elsewhere.

But Lin Yi had no intention of giving up such a golden opportunity. He shook his head resolutely.

Seeing Lin Yi unmoved, many exchanged glances, sighing and shaking their heads in regret.

They meant well; there was no malice in their warnings.

Lin Yi studied them. It was clear they had suffered in the Demon Prison. Some had sallow, sickly complexions, as if poisoned. Some were gaunt and malnourished. Others bore scars across their faces, earned—so they said—when flaying a demon alive.

The stories sounded harrowing, but as Lin Yi chatted with them and learned about the work, he could barely contain his excitement.

This was the chance he’d been waiting for! To interact with demons up close, to find ways to kill them—how else could he gain experience?

His blood was boiling; his eyes shone with fervor.

“I have to ask, brothers—does working in the Demon Prison really mean you get to slay a demon every day?”

Anxiously, Lin Yi awaited their reply.

“Every day there’s a mission. That’s the worst part, because the red mist keeps birthing more and more ominous energy, which means more and more demons. I’m terrified that, soon enough, we’ll be forced to kill two a day—how could anyone survive that?”

“Exactly. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have made that mistake and gotten sent here. It’s embarrassing to admit… Never mind, let’s welcome our brother Lin Yi tonight.”

…

As Demon Prison staff—at the lowest rank—there was one thing no one could avoid: no matter what your job, every day you had to slay at least one demon roughly matched to your strength.

It hadn’t always been this way. There used to be fewer demons. But now, with the surge of ominous energy, daily demon slaying had become routine.

The staff called themselves jailers.

Work in the Demon Prison was varied: sometimes you’d be assigned to kill or subdue a demon. Sometimes you had to follow strict protocols, not just kill at will.

Superiors set requirements for every kind of demon: for example, with a serpent demon, you might have to extract its gallbladder and skin it alive, all while keeping it alive.

Or, to destroy a Drowned Ghost, you had to study its true abilities, analyze its strengths and weaknesses—like a SWOT analysis—before finally killing it.

Such tasks were dangerous in the extreme.

And it wasn’t just about killing. Often you had to subdue and research the demons.

For instance, the Fire Fiend and Waterborne Wraith used in earlier tests didn’t need to be killed, but had to be tamed—a much harder task.

Don’t think it’s as easy as in those old tales, where you call out and the demon obediently enters a box. You had to thoroughly subdue the creature, make it willingly enter the containment box. With a combination of runes and advanced technology, you could then keep it safely restrained.

But this required a deep understanding of each demon, to adjust the level of the containment box accordingly.

Those boxes were painstakingly crafted by spirit engineers. The higher the grade, the more difficult and costly the research and materials—rare and hard to find.

So investigating every demon’s abilities and ranking was a compulsory task for every staff member.

Some demons with exceptional abilities required even more elaborate arrangements. For example, the Fire Fiend was highly useful—some researchers specialized in studying such entities and would need jailers to assist. One mistake, and both jailer and researcher could die, since the goal wasn’t to kill, but to subdue.

Assignments were unpredictable; anything was possible.

Nowadays, killing a demon a day was the norm.

Lin Yi couldn’t quite understand why.

Upon asking, a sallow-skinned, hunched, balding man explained, “There’s no choice—there are just too many demons. Some, like the serpent demons, have valuable skins and flesh but no unique abilities. They’re not worth researching, so they’re marked for slaughter.”

“And some vengeful spirits carry potent ominous energy. When we kill them, we use precision instruments to store that energy—these devices are expensive and delicate. When we’re done, we toss them into the Well of Omen.”

“Actually, much of the demon flesh—especially from those not worth studying—gets turned into feed for other, more valuable demons. Otherwise, it’d be impossible to source their food. Some of the flesh is refined into elixirs for us, or just served as our meals—heh heh…”

The Well of Omen—another new term.

At the heart of the Demon Prison stood a massive pillar, carved with intricate runes and symbols: the Prison Well, or Well of Omen.

The pillar was hollow, spanning all three levels of the Demon Prison, with a small opening on each floor. Jailers would toss boxes of ominous energy, demon flesh, or other materials needed for flaying and extraction into these openings.

Every time a jailer killed a demon, they were given a small box to absorb the ominous energy. The box could take in some, but never all of it.

Lin Yi didn’t receive one for his first assignment, as the supervising Grandmaster had yet to appear.

Each level of the Demon Prison was managed by a Grandmaster.

In fact, the prison was so vast, divided into so many sectors, that some staff had never even seen others from neighboring areas.

Every jailer was issued a smart processing chip—a badge, really—that recorded their duties, manufactured with a mix of arcane techniques and the latest technology, like those used by the Paranormal Investigation Bureau.

Each day, upon entering the Demon Prison, the jailer would activate the badge, logging their work until they finished and departed.