The Rejected Son’s Road to Retribution

Chapter 7

Not long after Tyson was sent back to his cell, the warden came to see the commissioner general.

At this moment, the commissioner general still hadn’t gotten over his earlier conversation with Tyson. Although he had made a promise, he needed to weigh the pros and cons before taking any action.

Coincidentally, the warden arrived right then.

The commissioner general looked at him without revealing anything. He only responded to the greeting with indifference.

“Commissioner General, how did your conversation with Tyson go? Was what he said true?”

Instead of answering directly, the commissioner general replied with a hint of sarcasm, “If it wasn’t, why would I have bothered to see him?”

“Ah, right… of course,” the warden replied awkwardly.

Not wanting to linger any longer, the commissioner general stood up and walked out. Before leaving, he glanced at the warden with a faint warning and said, “This is classified. Don’t let any outsiders find out. As for Tyson, he’s crucial for the ongoing investigation. Make sure he’s not given a hard time for now.”

“Yes, sir,” the warden replied firmly. “Commissioner, in that case, could I—”

“Oh, I’m in a hurry.” The commissioner general entered his official car without listening to what the warden wanted to say.

He knew very well that things in that place were dirty, after all, every country had one or two prisons that weren’t entirely clean. The commissioner general frowned deeply.

“Find every piece of fabricated evidence that was used against Tyson,” he ordered one of his aides.

The aide nodded, then asked, “Commissioner General, are you really going to do this?”

“Yes. We need him. If finding the leader of the Vortex Cartel were that easy, our police wouldn’t have spent months investigating without a single lead.”

The aide understood. He, too, had witnessed what Tyson had done in that room with the commissioner general.

Tyson’s case would inevitably affect the structure of the police force, causing all sorts of complications.

Whether he liked it or not, the commissioner general had to release Tyson and clear his name first before the police could make use of him.

“Keep everything about this confidential, his release, his abilities. For now, consider him our secret weapon.”

“Yes, Commissioner General.”

…

Within just a few days, the atmosphere in Prison No. 73 grew noticeably more tense. The commissioner general’s movements were clearly not slow.

Tyson was at the laundry area when two of Big Boss’s subordinates approached him.

“Big Boss wants you in the special room.”

Hearing those words, Tyson, whose name wasn’t mentioned, didn’t react at all. He calmly continued sorting the clothes, piece by piece, to put them into the washing machine.

The two of Big Boss’s subordinates frowned in displeasure, but there was nothing they could do, Big Boss himself had warned them not to offend Tyson.

One of them softened his tone and spoke again, “Tyson, Big Boss asked us to bring you to him. Now.”

Only then did Tyson look up at them. “I still have work in my hands.”

“In that case…” The man nudged his partner and added, “Let him finish it for you.”

Of course, his partner protested, but faced with the other two’s looks, he could only reluctantly nod in agreement, muttering under his breath so quietly that only he could hear it.

“Thanks, then,” Tyson said, handing over his task. He followed the other man toward the special room where Big Boss was waiting for him.

Inside the familiar room, Big Boss sat in his exclusive chair, puffing on a cigarette and occasionally glancing toward the door.

When Tyson arrived, he was greeted far more politely than before. He was even invited to sit on the sofa near Big Boss, and several people offered him good food and drinks.

It had been a long time since Tyson had eaten anything like that, so he didn’t hesitate. Besides, according to the system, the food was free of poison.

“What is it? Why did you call me?”

“Nothing big,” Big Boss replied, though his casual demeanor carried a faint seriousness.

After a few moments of small talk, Big Boss finally voiced the question that had been circling his mind for days. “What are you planning?”

Ordinary inmates in this prison probably had no idea that there had been some unrest among the officers stationed there. But as the warden’s biggest financial backer, Big Boss knew about it, if not in detail, at least in part.

He vaguely suspected that the situation had something to do with Tyson.

Without answering, Tyson casually glanced around at the others in the room and continued eating.

Big Boss understood. He gestured for his men to leave. After all, he came from one of the city’s influential families himself.

Soon, only the two of them remained in the room. Growing impatient, Big Boss asked again, “Does the warden’s problem have something to do with you?”

This time, Tyson responded, but not with a direct answer. “He’s been too corrupt and has broken too many rules. Isn’t it only natural for him to get into trouble eventually?”

Big Boss stared at him, speechless. How could someone change so drastically in such a short time? Even if Tyson had been hiding his true self all along, why would he have endured all that humiliation until now?

But for some reason, Big Boss couldn’t bring himself to ask those questions. It felt as if something was holding him back.

In the end, he asked another question instead. “Do you know that Lady De Leon will be holding her birthday party at the Palacio Hotel?”

Tyson didn’t answer. He knew his grandmother’s birthday was in two weeks, but he had no idea where or how it would be celebrated. After all, ever since he’d been imprisoned, it seemed his ties with the De Leon family had been severed.

“If you want to attend, I can have someone get you an invitation,” Big Boss offered.

Hearing that, Tyson looked at him, puzzled by the sudden kindness.

“Of course,” Big Boss added with a sly smile, “there’s a condition.”