[Prisons are places where criminals are kept, right?]
Hearing the question, Dante couldn’t help but frown.
’This isn’t a prison.’
[Yes. I have researched the difference.] Said Volcan. [Humans are quite strange. Why would it take so long to judge whether someone committed a crime or not?]
’Beats me.’ Shrugging, Dante slumped further into his bench.
Currently, he was sitting inside a wide white room with a single door. The furnishing was very simple, with only long benches attached to the walls and a few lined up at the center of the room. There were no windows, only a number of small air vents near the ceiling.
About a hundred men were stuffed in that enclosed space. It is always advised not to judge a book by its cover, but looking at these people, one wouldn’t be wrong to assume they weren’t a very sophisticated bunch. They were locked up in the holding cell of a police station, after all.
[The legal system in the Radmir union has not undergone any significant reforms in nearly a hundred years.] Volcan said. [It is quite inefficient.]
’The system is working just as intended.’ Thinking for a moment, Dante added. ’If there are improvements to be made, the ones in charge have no interest in implementing them.’
There is no profit to be gained from making the system more efficient. It didn’t matter if the whole thing was on the verge of collapsing, or if it wasn’t working as well as it could. So long as it’s serving its purpose while consuming the least amount of resources, it will remain that way indefinitely.
As Dante’s mood grew more somber, a shadow entered his field of view. Looking up, he saw a man standing right in front of him. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with a head that was almost entirely shaved, except for a few strands that jutted out from the center like a line of horns. His clothes were pretty decent, and despite being inside, he chose to wear some oversized sunglasses.
The man remained silent for a few seconds, his mouth moving as he chewed on something. Eventually, he lowered his head and said two words: "Nice shoes."
Staring at him for a moment, Dante looked down at his feet, then up at the man. Recalling something, he glanced at his shoulder and saw the tear that furry bastard had left on his jacket. Returning his gaze to the man, he eyed his clothes for a moment and said, "Nice jacket."
The holding cell’s door opened, and the guard in charge peeked inside. He ignored the eyes that turned his way and surveyed the interior, stopping at what seemed to be the source of the earlier commotion.
A man was lying on the floor with a red jacket covering his face. Standing over him was a red-haired youth holding a black jacket up and examining the print on its back, which depicted a red oni with long white fangs.
"Dante Sokolov, " the guard said, drawing the youth’s attention. "You have been discharged."
With a frown, Dante put on the jacked and walked to the door "About damn time."
The guard led him to another room where he was asked to sign a few things on a tablet. Then he was escorted to the lobby where he saw a familiar face waiting by the entrance.
"There you are!" Victor stood up and raised his arms, an exaggerated smile on his face. "Come here, you little rascal!"
The fixer looked even more rugged than usual. His hair was messier, and his clothes looked like they had not visited the washing machine in a very long time. With each step he took, the stench of alcohol wafting from him got stronger. He looked like a very drunk pirate who had the misfortune of marrying one most vile women in the world.
Dante watched the man approach him with a blank expression, and knowing what was about to happen, he braced himself. Arriving a step away from him, the look on the fixer’s face changed, and his right hand flashed.
A loud clap resounded and every head in the hall turned to its source.
"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO LEARN!? YOU IDIOT! NOW YOU’RE GOING AROUND SHOOTING PEOPLE!!? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? WHY DO YOU KEEP CAUSING PROBLEMS FOR ME!? IS THIS HOW YOU REPAY EVERYTHING I DID FOR YOU!!!?
When it came to getting arrested, Dante had his fair share of experience. The police would’ve released him a couple of days later since his only crime was the possession of an unlicensed firearm. With how understaffed and underpaid they were, the cops simply couldn’t afford to dwell on the smaller crimes.
Victor’s involvement accelerated the process quite a bit. The fixer knows a lot of people, and by acting as a concerned family member, he makes it so that the cop doesn’t suspect anything, ensuring they forget about the arrest as soon as he leaves the station.
The only problem was that he tended to get far too absorbed in his role, and since "Dante Sokolov" is registered as his son, he chose the persona of an angry parent to play whenever he had to bail him out.
The shouting continued, and Dante took it without saying anything. After a while, the officer who escorted him decided to intervene, clearly having felt for him.
"Sir, please keep your voice down."
Victor’s expression made another switch as he faced him.
"My apologies, officer. It seems I lost my temper." His hand shot up and grabbed Dante’s arm. "We will be taking our leave now, if you’ll excuse us."
With the crowd still watching them, the fixer walked to the exit while dragging Dante, who couldn’t help but whisper under his breath.
"I’m definitely killing you this time."
Still looking ahead, Victor replied.
"You’re welcome to try."
A car was waiting for them outside, with Boris at the driver’s seat. It took off soon after they got on board. Dante enjoyed the silent drive for a few minutes, then turned to the fixer and asked.
"You hitting the bottle again?"
"Nah, I just sprayed some for dramatic effect." The fixer chuckled. "Gotta play the role and whatnot."