Jagoan entered the cramped elevator, trailed by Bruce.

The control panel boasted simplicity, featuring only a solitary green button.

Bruce, with a press of the button, turned to Jagoan and explained, “Hit this to go up when someone’s below and the top button for descent. No lingering in the middle.”

Jagoan nodded as the elevator began its descent. He shot a glance at Bruce and inquired, “How deep does this go?”

Respectfully, Bruce replied, “Sixty meters in total.”

Unable to contain his curiosity, Jagoan asked, “How on earth did you manage to excavate such a deep, secret elevator shaft without anyone noticing?”

Bruce elaborated, “Despite Brooke Jagoan Prison posing as a federal facility, it’s been under the control of the Rothschild family. They funded renovations recently, with the money mostly funneled into constructing this underground stronghold and elevator shaft.”

“While there’s just this one visible entrance, there’s an underground

all this trouble in Brooklyn Prison just to house high-profile

clarified, “Gustavo Sanchez, a major drug lord, is here due to a comprehensive cooperation agreement with the Rothschild family. They want absolute control. This secret passage allows them

Jagoan commented, “So, the

the doors opened to reveal a narrow, arched tunnel. An iron door marked the end, flanked by rooms on either side. Bruce pointed to

demeanor, ordered, “Open

password on the door. The iron door swung open with a resonant ding. Jagoan, eager to proceed, pushed Bruce aside

sight inside left Jagoan

flowing faucet. Chained to the toilet was a bearded man, Peter Cole, with an iron

room offered no respite, forcing Peter into an uncomfortable, curled-up position. As

whispered, “Mr. Cole, or rather,

tears streaming, stammered, “Young

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