Annan said nothing. He merely turned to look at Della and Shadow Song.
"Wonderful. I like lechers best." Della showed keen interest. "I love cutting off their balls and feeding them back to them."
The Prisoners fell deathly silent.
The lechers and non-lechers around them fell silent. Only the Black Widow looked impressed.
"Who was heckling just now?"
Della wasn't bluffing. She swept her gaze over the group that had been heckling and, among all the eyes darting away, picked out the Prisoner who looked guiltiest.
"Della, you could let him make amends and die on the battlefield," Annan said, trying to win some favor.
Then the Prisoner stuck out his neck and shouted, "That's right, woman! You can't kill me! I'm meant to die on the battlefield!"
Annan shook his head. He'd offered the fool a lifeline, and the idiot had insisted on chopping it off...
Della's dark purple lips curved. "Losing two balls shouldn't stop you from picking up a weapon."
The Warden had already led his men into the ranks and dragged away the Prisoner, who could only move his lips without getting a word out. Not one Prisoner dared speak...
It wasn't that they lacked courage. Plenty of Prisoners would have stepped forward if it meant losing their heads, but losing their balls... no man wanted that fate.
An idea for dealing with Nanami suddenly flashed through Annan's mind, though it wasn't fully formed yet...
"Don't worry. I guarantee you'll be able to pick up a weapon and fight the next day. And your balls will be made into wind chimes."
Annan frowned.
Della did care what he thought. She glanced at him and asked softly, "Is that bad?"
"Not exactly. It's just... using those as wind chimes isn't very civilized. We represent Free City now."