The Happy Life of the Abandoned Prince

Connor was sitting on a bench in the square of Saint-Vansol Prison basking in the sun. This place was originally the Invalides, so the facilities and venues are very complete, and it does not have the gloomy and oppressive feeling of ordinary prisons from a distance.If you don't know it, you will really mistake it for a nursing home.

The weather was fine, and he rarely enjoyed a happy leisure time. The officials in Kismir were all dog officials, but these prisoners seemed to be very kind. Get some welcome ceremony killing power or something, even if he occupies the entire bench by himself, no one who is not open-eyed will come to make trouble and say that this is his territory.At that moment, Connor suddenly wondered if all the prisoners here were wronged by those stupid officials?

Of course not, Connor smiled self-deprecatingly.His new cellmate, Filgu, is a very enthusiastic person. He hangs around Connor when he has nothing to do, and patiently helps Connor answer some questions, as long as he beckons...

"What's your order?" You see, he is even more attentive than the Haidilao waiter.

"Ah, it's okay. I saw those people wandering around all the time, and they didn't go to play. I don't know why?"

Of course it's because you're by my side!Fergu smiled sincerely. "They don't like playing ball."

Oh sure these nasty guys love to play ball and bully people but no one wants to play next to a guy who can punch a hole in a rock with one punch and who knows what annoys him to get a punch in the head ?
Of course, Connor didn't know that his venting punch had such a terrible effect, making a group of vicious guys twitch like big girls.He saw that those guys were really wandering around, so he didn't take it seriously.

Those former jail tyrants were so depressed, they pulled Fergu over there without any problems, "Pig killer! Tell us what kind of road this guy is!"

"Don't call me a pig butcher!" Fergu said with a depressed face, even if he called him a butcher, it sounded domineering at least.

"Why are there so many things? Are you looking for a beating?" One of the biggest burly men shouted angrily.

"Why are you venting your anger on me? Go find that kid!"

Nonsense, I still call you after calling?The big man thought to himself that no matter how hard he was, he couldn't be stronger than the stone wall.I can only vent my anger on the butcher, "Pig butcher! What do you know about that kid?"

"An official was killed, as if poisoned to death. He claimed that he was wronged."

Staying in the cell next to Connor and Fergut's is a bad-mouthed thief, the same person who has been calling Fergut a pig butcher, he whimpered; "He said he didn't poison, maybe it was a The fist smashed that person's head?"

I shivered at the thought of the few brave bandits that might be present. Although there are a few of them who can make the children of King Valente dare not cry at night, they are not real thieves after all. Or it has already been discoed by someone's grave.These few guys who can enter the prison alive to serve their sentences are considered honest and cowardly masters.

Just like that big man nicknamed Shark, although he looks very fierce in the prison and relies on great power to dominate, in fact, he is now anxious and afraid. What he fears most is that Connor wants to dominate The prison used him to stand out. At that time, did he bow down on his head or kneel down and beg for mercy?How do you surrender to ensure that you don't lose face?
Connor felt that he could stay here for a while, so he just stayed in a daze for a few days and waited for that Ma Kelun to wake up and rehabilitate himself?But the only thing he can't bear is the evil food.

"It's obviously pig food!" Filgu heard Connor swearing there, his neck flinched, and he didn't speak.He stood his head in the corner obediently, just like a child who was punished to stand without saying a word.

After a while the sound disappeared.The butcher glanced behind him secretly, but he was gone.He continued to face the wall as if deceiving his ears and stealing the bell, pretending that he hadn't found anything.

The Leap Sword is still very useful for jailbreaking. When Connor understood that the Leap Sword is a flash technique, he used it quite happily. Three meals a day were settled in Valentine's restaurant.For example, sometimes when Connor is bored, he will temporarily jump to the place in the capital at noon, and he can walk wherever he jumps, such as going to Roland Square, squatting here alone to feed the pigeons all afternoon.When I returned to the prison at night, I found that the inmates were silent, and suddenly felt that this was "The Shawshank Redemption".

Gradually, Connor felt that he was too stupid to count on Kismir's level of legal system here?Whether he should just escape from prison or not, the idea just kept circling in his mind.He looked at Fergu, who was sitting obediently and meditating beside him, and wondered if he should be sent out too?
Felgu was terrified. He didn't know what happened. If the man or something beside him could leave, why did he come back? Did he know that he had discovered his secret?Does he know that he pretends not to know?He kept having strange conversations and guesses in his mind, but he didn't dare to ask Connor face to face, so Fergu lost sleep.

Connor was naturally indifferent to those dirty meals that might have crawled over Xiaoqiang. He thought that Fergu would clean them up for him, but no one touched the food at all.And what's even more exaggerated is that he didn't even feel like eating his own portion of the meal.

At night, after the jailer counted the personnel, he turned off the lights. Fergu stared blankly at the ceiling, and the bed beside him was naturally empty. He wondered more than once whether the strange boy beside him was his own delusion. It doesn't exist at all.

It's just that a man named Fergu is crazy.

It's a pity that as soon as he told others about this idea, he was beaten up by the sharks, and they yelled to wake him up while whipping him.Even going crazy these days requires the consent of the prison bully.

Fergu closed his eyes, even though he was very tired, he didn't feel sleepy at all.Those painful memories swirled in my mind, like a forced slide show repeated over and over again.

"I'm sorry, your things are worthless." The indifferent mocking voice sounded.

"I don't want to buy meat now, go out for me." The nasty woman didn't look at him at all.

stop stop!Felgu shouted, hoping that the self in memory would stop being embarrassing.

"I am a traditional craft artist!" Another "Fiergu" insisted.

"A butcher who calls himself an artist?" The well-dressed man dismissively tossed his carving away.

"So... I am an artist." In reality, Fergu gave up thinking and insisted on saying this, even though his brain had stopped functioning.

So how happy he was when false hopes came. When a person who claimed to be an art dealer appeared and admired his works very much, he suddenly had the illusion of a confidant. All the painstaking works of art were given to the other party for free, and a sum of his hard-earned money was also given, hoping that the other party would publicize his masterpiece, leaving only a business card that he regarded as a treasure.

Like all the cheated fools?The one who lied was me, the liar just drew an outline, and the person who was deceived drew the eyes and eyebrows to deceive himself.

He lived in hopes and dreams in those days, how many times he woke up laughing in his sleep, until he knew which so-called art dealer was a member of a well-known gang of scammers.If these people really regarded Fergut's works as a fraudulent fortune, he would not be angry, because at least they recognized the artistic value of his works.But they only use his work as a prop to deceive people.

Too bully.

It was the first time in his life that Fergu was so angry. He swung his oil-stained fist and hit it with all his strength, even if there were three people on the opponent. Standing up tremblingly on the ground, butchering a pig is indeed a physical exercise, much better than a liar who relies on words to deceive people.

It seems that I am not an artist, just a butcher.

Thinking of this, Fergu cried in front of the police who arrested him.

It's all a thing of the past, the artist lying on the hard bed of the prison blinked, and a little bit of water dripped down.