"Go on in. This will be your new home from now on."
West Sail Harbor Prison.
This granite fortress was probably one of the few buildings in West Sail Harbor's port district that had not been baptized by artillery fire.
And the floor he was on lay in the deepest underground level of the prison—a place for holding serious criminals.
Listening to the guard's mockery behind him, Battlefield Atmosphere Team could not be bothered to respond to such a small fry and calmly walked inside.
He looked left and right, his eyes even carrying a hint of curiosity.
The cell was spartan, and spartan in a very real way. There was only a toilet and a bed, with the toilet right beside the head of the bed. When it was time to eat, he might even have to set his bowl on the toilet lid.
The four walls were pitch-black, without even a window for ventilation. The few air vents were all on the ceiling outside the bars.
Are they trying to stink me to death or what...
Veteran could not help grumbling inwardly.
Fortunately, it was a single cell, so he did not have to squeeze in with other prisoners. Apparently, whoever had ordered his imprisonment was not comfortable letting him get too close to anyone else.
Just as Battlefield Atmosphere Team carefully inspected his future new home, the barred door behind him slammed shut with a clang, followed by the sound of the iron door to the floor closing.
"Fuck, being locked up in a game is one thing... Do they have to make the prison experience this realistic too?"
That damn dog must have done field research.
Veteran sighed and sat down on the bed.
As an upstanding young man, he had never even spent time in