The Prison King Returns

The Crowe Estate Incident

Ten years ago.

The Crowe Estate.

It was past midnight.

The family was asleep when an explosion tore through the eastern wing of the mansion. Windows shattered, smoke filled the corridors, and the sound of gunfire followed seconds later.

The estate's security guards didn't stand a chance. They were slaughtered before they could properly return fire.

Elias's parents burst into his bedroom. His father grabbed his shoulder while his mother rushed toward his little sister, Lily.

“Elias. Lily,” his mother whispered urgently. “No matter what happens, you stay in this room. Do you understand?”

“Your mother and I will handle it,” his father added, forcing a calm smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Elias was shaking. He held his sister tightly as their parents stepped out and closed the door behind them.

The gunshots grew louder. Voices echoed through the hallway, and Lily buried her face into Elias's chest. He could barely breathe. After several seconds, he slowly moved toward the door and opened it just enough to see through the gap.

His parents had been forced onto their knees in the hallway, surrounded by masked gunmen dressed in black tactical gear.

“Please,” his father said, his voice steady despite the blood trickling down his forehead. “You can take anything you want. Money. Documents. Whatever you're looking for. Just let my family go.”

One of the gunmen tilted his head.

“We've already been paid,” he replied coldly. “And our job is to eliminate you.”

BAM!

The shot echoed through the mansion.

Elias's mother collapsed instantly, a dark stain spreading across the marble floor.

His father roared in fury and lunged forward. He managed to knock one of the gunmen off balance, sending the man's pistol flying from his grip. It slid across the floor and stopped inches from Elias's door.

Then—

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Three bullets tore into his father's back.

He fell forward, blood pooling beneath him.

Elias's vision blurred. His ears rang, and his entire body trembled, but no scream came out. He stared at his parents lying motionless on the floor as something violent began creeping out from somewhere deep inside him.

He pushed the door open fully and stepped into the hallway.

The fallen gun was right there.

He picked it up with shaking hands and pointed it at the criminals.

“I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!”

The gunmen turned toward him.

For a brief second, they were stunned. A fourteen-year-old boy stood in the smoke-filled hallway, trembling as he held a pistol far too large for his hands.

“Commander,” one of the men muttered, glancing at Elias. “What do we do with the kids?”

The leader didn't hesitate.

“Shoot him.”

Before the man could raise his weapon, sirens wailed outside the estate.

WEEEEEOOOOO!

Red and blue lights flashed through the shattered windows.

“The police are here!” one of them hissed.

The leader cursed.

“Move! Now!”

“What about the kids?”

The leader's eyes remained cold behind his mask.

“There's a timed bomb in the building. It'll go off in three minutes. They won't survive.”

The men began retreating toward the rear exit.

But as the last man turned, Elias raised the pistol.

“I won't let you escape!”

BAM!

The recoil nearly knocked him backward, but the bullet struck the man's leg. The assassin collapsed with a howl of pain.

The others hesitated for half a second before choosing survival over loyalty. They ran, leaving their wounded companion behind.

“Arghhh!” the man screamed, clutching his shattered leg.

Elias rushed toward him, fury drowning out his fear. He aimed the gun directly at the man's chest.

“You killed my mom!” His voice cracked violently. “I won't spare you!”

The assassin reached toward him weakly.

“Drop the gun, you stupid kid—”

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Elias emptied the entire magazine.

The hallway fell silent except for the ringing in his ears. The man's body lay motionless as blood spread across the marble floor.

Heavy boots thundered into the estate.

“Police! Drop the weapon!”

Elias slowly turned.

Officers stood at the shattered entrance with their weapons raised.

Among them was a young Marcus Vale, only twenty-eight years old at the time and still a junior officer.

They saw a fourteen-year-old boy covered in blood, holding a gun and standing among several corpses.

“Put the weapon down!” an officer shouted.

Elias dropped it immediately.

“They killed them!” he cried, pointing desperately toward his parents. “They killed my mom and dad! They planted a bomb! They're still inside! My sister is upstairs!”

The officers exchanged looks.

One of them muttered, “Jesus…”

Another whispered, “He's snapped.”

Marcus stepped closer, his eyes scanning the scene. The dead gunman at Elias's feet. The pistol. The bodies of Elias's parents. There were no other attackers in sight, and the estate's surveillance system had gone offline during the explosion.

The scene looked simple.

Too simple.

But without evidence of the attackers Elias described, the officers had little choice but to believe what was in front of them.

“Secure him,” Marcus ordered quietly.

Two officers grabbed Elias roughly.

“No! Listen to me!” Elias struggled. “There were masked men! They shot my parents! My sister—Lily is still upstairs!”

For the first time that night, tears rolled down Elias's face.

“They killed them…” he whispered. “I was trying to save them…”

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

The explosion ripped through the upper floor.

Flames burst from the windows as the blast knocked officers off their feet. Smoke swallowed the house.

Lily never made it out.

Fourteen-year-old Elias Crowe was charged with homicide and unlawful possession of a firearm. He was declared unstable, violent, and a danger to society.

He was sent to juvenile detention.

But even there, they couldn't control him.

Older teenagers tried to intimidate him. He broke arms, cracked ribs, and left bullies unconscious on concrete floors. He refused to bow. Refused to become prey.

Within two years, the facility labeled him an extreme risk.

At sixteen, in a move almost unheard of, Elias Crowe was transferred to Blackstone Penitentiary.

The prison for monsters.

That was where he met the old man.

No one spoke to him.

No one went near him.

He stayed in the far corner of the yard every day, his eyes half-closed as if he were asleep.

The first time Elias approached him, he didn't speak. He simply placed his untouched meal tray beside the old man.

The old man opened one eye.

“You're either foolish,” he said quietly, “or different.”

Elias sat down beside him.

“I don't like wasting food.”

A faint smile crossed the old man's face.

From that day forward, the old man began to teach him.

Not just how to fight.

How to see.

He taught Elias martial arts that went beyond modern combat systems, breathing methods that sharpened the mind, and secret techniques capable of shattering bone with minimal movement.

He taught him the Five Dragon Claw techniques.

And then he taught him medicine.

Knowledge that surpassed modern understanding. Techniques that could repair damaged muscles, stop internal bleeding, and restore injuries doctors considered irreversible.

Years later, those teachings would give birth to a name that every inmate in Blackstone would know.

The Saint of Blackstone.

But Elias didn't know it yet.

At sixteen, he was still just a broken boy trying to understand why his family had been murdered.

And the old man was the first person who seemed to know the truth.