Chapter 256 My Last Name Is Raine

• When Edward followed Ba into the surveillance room, the Daojun was lounging in a chair, lazily smoking a cigar. A silver‑haired elder sat upright beside him. Seeing Edward, the silver‑haired elder rose with a warm smile. “Edward, have a seat.” Ba introduced from the side, “This is the warden of Black Prison.” The highest authority in Black Prison! Edward was stunned, but thinking about his ten wins in ten fights, it made sense the warden would meet him in person. And honestly, he himself felt that ten wins in ten fights was almost too much—like winning by pulling a dirty trick. If the Daojun hadn’t pulled that “slick move,” he wouldn’t even have had the chance to face the Daojun in the final bout. Now that the warden was here, it had to be about those ten victories. Whether he could leave Black Prison was on the line, and Edward’s heart tightened. The Daojun said calmly, “Sit. You’ve earned the right to leave Black Prison.” Edward glanced at the Daojun, a weight lifting slightly from his chest. He sat down. Inside the surveillance room, it was dead quiet. After the battle, Edward’s body was running on fumes. Sitting in that chair, every second was torture. Pain racked him head to toe; his face was pale, sweat poured down like rain. But he didn’t show even a flicker of weakness. His eyes were steady, hard as iron. “Very impressive.” The Daojun smiled and nodded at the silver‑haired elder. “His mind, his ability, his sense of duty—all top‑tier,” the elder agreed, praising him. Edward stared in bewilderment. You called me in just to compliment me again to my face? The pain biting into him, the urgency of the clock—he couldn’t afford to sit and wait. He had to get home, fast. He drew a deep breath and asked the question burning in his chest first: “Senior Daojun, do you know my dad?” “Senior?” The Daojun arched a brow, then grinned. “Daojun is just a title. My actual last name… is Raine.” Chen Daojun? Chen Daolin? Edward’s brows knotted. He smacked his lips, and suddenly the pieces clicked. Shock flashed across his face. “You get it now?” Chen Daojun gave a gentle smile. “You should be calling me Uncle.” Boom. The guess that had exploded into his mind was confirmed by Chen Daojun’s own mouth. Edward suddenly felt like he was sitting on a bed of nails. His father’s brother… in Black Prison? And he’d ruled this place for over twenty years? Wait— Edward’s shock deepened. “Over twenty years” was a vague number. But he could roughly map it. Over twenty years ago was around when he was born. It was when his father returned to the Raine family to take the mantle of Patriarch. It was also when Chen Daojun was thrown into Black Prison. When a vague number carries several key events, that vagueness starts to align into an exact timeline. And with Chen Daojun’s strength, he had clearly been one of the contenders to inherit the Raine family back then. “Huh.” As Edward reeled, Chen Daojun drew on his cigar and blew a thick cloud of smoke right into Edward’s face. Edward choked and coughed hard twice. Through the haze, he caught a glimpse of Chen Daojun’s expression icing over. His voice turned cold. “With your brain, you should’ve guessed—I was sent to Black Prison by your father.” The words cut like a draft from the depths of the underworld, and Edward went cold all over. A rush of fear tore through him. His father put Chen Daojun into Black Prison, and he’d been locked away for over twenty years. That kind of hatred… When a man’s freedom is destroyed, the hatred that grows out of that is beyond bone‑deep. Even blood ties get brittle. But Edward’s brows tightened again. He looked steady and calm at the frosty Chen Daojun. “So Uncle came personally to get me out of Black Prison?” “Screw this.” Chen Daojun leaned back into his chair and swore. He shrugged, helpless. “You’re just like your father. Deep. Cunning. Honestly, I don’t blame him. Winner takes all. He won—that’s on his skill. And I’ve had my fun here in Black Prison.” He finished and waved his hand. “That’s about all that needs saying. Time for you to go.” A short conversation, but it revealed something jaw‑dropping. Edward wasn’t the only one stunned. Ba was floored, beyond speechless. Even when Edward stood up, Ba was still dazed. Who would’ve thought a newcomer tossed into Black Prison had such a deep connection to the man who’d dominated the place for over twenty years? Just that connection alone explains everything the Daojun did before, doesn’t it? “Edward…” The silver‑haired elder suddenly rose. “Warden, what are your orders?” Edward wasn’t dumb. It was obvious—the warden wasn’t here to harp on his string of wins. All his earlier worries faded into smoke. “You can call me Old Lin,” the silver‑haired elder said with a warm smile, showing none of the iron authority of Black Prison’s master. “Be careful out there. The danger and hardship you’ll face are way bigger and harsher than you think.” Edward felt puzzled, but he still nodded and cupped his hands in thanks. “Thank you, Old Lin.” “Go. I’ve already arranged a plane to take you out.” Old Lin waved and told Ba, “Ba, escort Edward out.” “Yes, sir.” Ba took the order respectfully, and the look he gave Edward had completely changed. At first, he’d felt close to Edward just because they were the same skin tone. When he learned Edward came from Kunlun, that closeness turned into support. Now, Edward had earned his respect—his awe—and… his admiration. As Edward reached the door, the Daojun’s voice rang from behind him. “Right, if something really goes south, tell Ba. He’ll relay it to me. Your uncle might not be good at much else, but killing? I’m damn good at that. Also, give my regards to your bastard father. Tell him… motherf—” Edward’s mouth twitched. He was speechless. But the Daojun’s words made his confusion even deeper. Black Prison wasn’t supposed to let anyone out. The only way out was insanely strict. Chen Daojun had ruled this prison for over twenty years and still hadn’t left. He had to be bound by something else. If Edward ran into trouble and told Chen Daojun—stuck deep inside Black Prison—what could he possibly do? Carrying all these questions, Edward followed Ba out of the surveillance room. Watching them go, the warmth on Chen Daojun’s face slowly faded, replaced by a trace of weary melancholy. He crushed out the half‑smoked cigar and murmured, “This cigar tastes like ash.” “You want revenge, but you helped your enemy’s son walk free. Doesn’t sit right, huh?” Old Lin chuckled. Chen Daojun shot Old Lin a sideways look. “You say that without feeling even a twinge of guilt?” Old Lin’s smile froze, and he gave a sheepish grin. Black Prison was less a prison and more a city. Black Prison City. Its size was staggering, and now that Edward had earned his freedom, following Ba through it, he felt that vastness in his bones. When they reached the city’s airfield, a fighter jet was already prepped and waiting. The engines roared, heat waves boiling off the tail. “Edward, safe travels,” Ba said sincerely. “I’m really happy you’re getting out.” “Thanks.” Edward’s voice was weak. Right after they left the surveillance room, Ba had taken him to the medical wing, and his wounds had been treated for now. He looked at Ba, his eyes turning as a thought clicked. He asked, “Ba, mind if I ask—what’s your relationship with Kunlun?”