Netherworld Prison was a secret prison in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. More than eighty percent of the world's elite criminals were located here. The criminals consisted of agents, warlords, assassins, bankers, hackers, etc. Each of them had killed people or committed serious crimes. Thud, thud, thud! In the hush, footsteps echoed. The elite criminals now stood in two neat lines, opening a passage for a young man to pass. He looked twenty-seven, fine-featured and straight-backed, walking step by step toward the deepest sector of the prison. The man was Luciano Griffith, born in Khester, Corvaina. Five years ago, he graduated from university and married Marilyn Holmes. On their wedding night, Marilyn's ex, Hugo Campbell, barged into the bedroom to try to assault her.  Luciano, half drunk, beat Hugo up. After that, Hugo not only escaped punishment, but he also used his connections to have Luciano thrown in jail. The poor groom had worn his wedding ring for only a few days before he was sentenced. Still, fate had not slammed every door shut. Thankfully, there was a way out. During Luciano's transfer to a suburban jail in Khester, something went awry. He was delivered to Netherworld Prison instead. Netherworld Prison had twelve gates, each corresponding to a tier of inmates. Not long after he arrived, an old man, Apollo, confined in the Twelfth Gate, took a liking to him and accepted him as a disciple. Apollo was a special case. Even the three chief wardens respected him. He did not seem like a prisoner at all. He was a keeper of the Netherworld Prison. Over five years, Luciano learned a formidable arsenal of skills from Apollo and acted in his stead, controlling the inmates. Finally, Luciano reached the Eleventh Gate. Several warlords stayed there. They had once ruled territories and killed without blinking. They were said to have killed eighty to ninety thousand people. Yet when they saw Luciano approach, they rose and dipped their heads in respect. One of them hunched his shoulders.  A long scar ran across the man's neck, a mark from three years ago when, on the day he arrived at the prison, Luciano nearly twisted his head off. Luciano had even stitched the man's wound. Remembering the fight still made the man's gut clench. Luciano ignored them, eyes fixed ahead, and walked past their cells. He stopped before a black-iron gate with a cold metallic sheen. This was the deepest chamber, the Twelfth Gate. Inside, there was only Apollo. "Mr. Apollo, it's been five years. I'm going out." Luciano drew a steadying breath, dropped to his knees, and bowed three times toward the gate. Thud! Thud! Thud! Each bow landed harder than the last. When he finished, a jade pendant shot out from the bars and landed right by his hand. For a heartbeat, he stared. Then joy cut through his composure. Apollo had spent a lifetime wandering and had founded the Dragon Hall. The pendant was the Dragon Token. Whoever held it could summon tens of thousands of disciples. "I will never forget the life you gave me, Mr. Apollo. I will carry out your orders and put your territory in order. When I am strong enough, I will come back to save you." Tears burned Luciano's eyes as he closed his fingers around the jade. He knew Apollo had just given him everything he had left. "Get out." Apollo had no patience for sentiment. Luciano let the tears fall.  Apollo disliked scenes like this, so Luciano smothered the urge to beg for one last look. Luciano lowered himself again and bowed three more times. Then his gaze steadied, and he walked out of the Twelfth Gate. "Marilyn, I am coming home." "You have waited too long." "Hugo Campbell, you did not expect me to be alive, did you? Please wait for me. I will repay you properly." After parting with Apollo, Luciano's heart strained toward home. Apollo had already told him why he had ended up here. Five years ago, even after the conviction, Hugo had not planned to let Luciano live.  He arranged a car crash during the transfer to kill Luciano. But at the crash site, a mercenary bandit struck. Luciano survived by luck, got swept up in the chaos, and, by accident, was brought to the island. As for his release and return to Corvaina, Apollo had used his connections. In the corridor, inmates had already gathered to see Luciano off. "Mr. Luciano, congratulations. I have money in a Swiss bank. If you ever need cash, take it. It is legitimate!" said a finance tycoon who was imprisoned for fraud and had been sentenced to more than two hundred years. "Me too. I own a private airfield in Ferundia, two golf courses in Solanica, and three warehouses of armfires in Iuswary. They are of no use to me. When you can, go take them." An Epean kingpin, who had been sentenced to more than five hundred years. "I hate to see you go. Here is my dark web account. It has scandals involving world leaders and thirty thousand bitcoins. I cannot use any of it. It is all yours." It was a notorious hacker who needed to serve three hundred years. Almost everyone here, Apollo included, had been given a life sentence. Luciano was the first man to leave. Years inside had bound him to these inmates.  He laughed, clasped forearms, and said his goodbyes one by one. "What is all that racket? Some of us are trying to sleep!" A harsh voice burst from a cell near the entrance, shattering the mood. Luciano looked over and found an unfamiliar face. "Mr. Luciano, he is new," someone muttered, eyes going cold.  "Word is he is one of Mirendon's top three drug lords. Want me to teach him some manners?" The speaker was an assassin. He had once taken a president's life. To him, a drug lord was no more than a pushover. "A cartel king?" Luciano's face tightened. After years inside, the ones he loathed most were the drug lords. Unlike others, they drugged families until they broke. "Go. Break his hands and feet, then throw him into solitary confinement in the water dungeon," Luciano said. The assassin slid the cell door open. Screams tore through the corridor. Minutes later, the swaggering drug lord lay with four shattered limbs, hauled out like a dead dog and dumped by the door. Five guards had not intervened. When the beating ended, one of them dragged the drug lord to the water dungeon. "Gentlemen, until we meet again." Seeing the time, Luciano offered a final farewell. They watched him go, reluctant to blink. Guided by guards, he walked the long hall and stepped into the elevator that rose to the surface.  Along the way, officers and elite soldiers from many countries nodded to him. Their respect was unmistakable. In a place like Netherworld Prison, no one was easy to handle.  Without Apollo and Luciano, riots would have been a daily routine. The guards respected and thanked them both, from the heart. At the main gate, as Luciano left the prison, a blade of sunlight fell across him. "Too bright," he murmured, narrowing his eyes and drawing a lungful of air. Netherworld Prison sat on an isolated island. The air tasted salty and free. "Mr. Griffith, congratulations on regaining your freedom. This way, please," a guard said politely. "Thank you," Luciano replied with a nod. A helicopter waited not far off, its fuselage written with Corvainan lettering. It had come to take him home. Just as he moved to board, the cabin door swung open. A woman sat inside.