This underground prison was undoubtedly a rather magnificent structure.
Fu Qian, disguised as a guard, walked silently through the corridors.
The robe was clearly a little too big, and its material was stiff, making it very uncomfortable to wear.
But considering the state of its original owner, that was understandable.
With skin like that, they probably wouldn't feel the chafing.
As he walked, Fu Qian gathered information about his surroundings, quickly piecing together the prison's layout in his mind.
His current task was to get out of here.
After identifying several places that might be exits, Fu Qian began adjusting his route toward them, taking detours when necessary.
There were quite a few guards carrying kettles in the prison, and they were all constantly patrolling.
The corridors were relatively narrow, and Fu Qian wasn't confident he could get close without being recognized.
Fortunately, the place was large enough to offer plenty of room to maneuver, allowing him to avoid running into anyone head-on as much as possible.
This maze-like meandering went on for nearly an hour. Along the way, Fu Qian also saw the guards escorting in new prisoners.
As expected, every new prisoner reflected an unusual white light from their skin, making them what people called "Loss of Color people."
This place wasn't a prison. It was a burial pit.
Thinking of what he'd seen in the cells, Fu Qian silently reached his conclusion.
Although he didn't know what danger these Loss of Color people posed, someone was clearly gathering them here and placing them under the watch of these strange guards.
And the guards did more than keep them from getting out. They also acted as undertakers.
For example, they kept adding lamp oil to make sure the lamps in the cells never went out.
Fu Qian had