Supreme Spouse System.

Chapter 521: Curiosity Cuts Deeper Than Chains

Curiosity Cuts Deeper Than Chains

"You’re all wrong," Leon said, amusement curling at the corners of his mouth like a slow-growing shadow. "You think I threatened you because I want to kill you."

He stepped forward again.

Boots tapping softly against the stone.

Measured.

Certain.

A rhythm that didn’t rush, didn’t falter—just carved its own authority into the floor.

The cell felt smaller with each step he took. The lantern on the wall flickered, unsure if it should keep burning or give way to the rising darkness inside the room.

"I don’t want to kill you," Leon said, voice dropping into a velvet-smooth softness that sounded far more dangerous than any shout could ever be.

He paused.

His eyes swept over the three chained assassins as if he were studying a strange artifact, not three men who tried to murder one of his own.

"And do you know why—"

Silence fell over the court-like corridor outside the cell. It wasn’t a normal kind of quiet. It was the sort that cut off breath, thought, and instinct all at once. Even the guards shifted on their heels but made no sound.

Leon let the moment stretch, then shook his head lightly and chuckled.

"Don’t think too much," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Like I told you before—curiosity. Just pure curiosity."

A rough grunt came from the right.

A sharp, irritated Hmph! that rattled the chain around the man’s neck.

The middle prisoner rolled his shoulder as far as the heavy restraints allowed and muttered, voice rough:

"Don’t read into it, kid. We don’t care. And now that you’re done talking... leave the prison. We want to sleep."

The one on the left snorted, lowering his head against the wall as if Leon were some annoying visitor who stayed too long.

"Yeah. You heard him. Go. We’re tired. You got your little moment, now get outta here."

The tone wasn’t brave, not exactly.

It wasn’t hostile either.

It was... resigned.

Like men who’d already counted their days down to zero and found nothing left worth holding onto.

Leon didn’t move at first.

He just stared at them—really stared—hands loosely at his sides, expression unreadable except for the faint glimmer of something sharp behind his eyes.

Aden shifted behind him, uneasy. The guards didn’t dare speak.

Then Leon tilted his head and exhaled a quiet breath.

"Now listen."

His voice wasn’t soft this time.

It wasn’t loud either.

Just... final.

The prisoners slowly lifted their eyes toward him.

"I told you—I don’t have time for games. I’m curious, that’s all." He tapped his fingers lightly against the bar. "Curious about you three. Curious why you’d risk your lives to go after Garay."

A slight tremor went through the middle prisoner’s hand.

A reaction he tried to hide—but Leon saw.

He continued:

"If you three are willing to tell me why you wanted Garay dead..."

His smile crept in—small, clever, dangerous.

"...then maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a chance to kill him."

The words hung there like a dangling blade.

Even the torch outside crackled quieter.

The prisoners didn’t speak, but something changed in the air. Their breaths grew heavier. Their eyes tightened. No bravado now. No meaningless insults.

Interest.

Real interest.

Leon saw it and stepped back a little, giving them space as if letting the idea reach them at its own pace.

"And if you change your mind," he went on, "tell the guard outside."

He flicked his fingers toward the hallway.

"Because I’m going. I have too many tasks to waste my time waiting for you three to decide whether your pride is louder than your reason."

The middle one’s lips twitched. Not a smile. More like the ghost of a reaction he hadn’t planned to show.

Leon noticed that too.

He turned his body slightly toward the exit but kept his gaze on them, the faintest glimmer of sly amusement tugging at the edge of his expression.

"Don’t forget," he murmured, "I offered you something. So if you want what I said... contact me."

He turned and began walking away.

Aden followed immediately, falling into step with him, though he glanced over his shoulder at the three prisoners more than once. The guards waited for Leon to fully clear the threshold before stepping forward to secure the door.

Inside the cell... the assassins didn’t speak.

Didn’t laugh.

Didn’t insult him again.

They just watched Leon’s silhouette fade into the dim corridor—a slow disappearance swallowed by the glow of torchlight and the soft clink of armor.

The door swung shut behind him.

A massive iron door.

Thick.

Cold.

Unforgiving.

It slammed with a deep, echoing THUNK that rolled through the underground passage like a final judgment.

And then darkness crept back into the cell.

The torchlight slipping through the bars thinned.

The shadows grew long again.

The three prisoners sat there... staring at nothing... replaying Leon’s words over and over.

Silence reclaimed the space in a way that felt almost sentient. The world outside continued—distant footsteps echoing through stone corridors, guards shifting their weight, the low hum of the fortress breathing under the night sky—but inside the cell, everything stalled. Time didn’t just slow; it curled inward and held its breath.

Silence reclaimed the space in a way that felt almost sentient. The world outside continued—distant footsteps echoing through stone corridors, guards shifting their weight, the low hum of the fortress breathing under the night sky—but inside the cell, everything stalled. Time didn’t just slow; it curled inward and held its breath

They glanced at each other, the kind of look that lasted barely a second yet carried the weight of something neither wanted to touch. No words rose. No bodies shifted. They simply stood in that suspended moment, caught between what had already happened and what they dreaded might come next.

Their thoughts moved in tight circles—quiet, stubborn, and unavoidable. The sort of thoughts men forced themselves to bury until fate dragged them out again and set them on the table like unwelcome truths.

And the darkness swallowed them whole.