[Prisons are places where criminals are kept, right?]
Hearing the question, Dante couldn't help but frown.
'This isn't a prison.'
[Yes. I have researched the difference.] Said Volcan. [Humans are quite strange. Why would it take so long to judge whether someone committed a crime or not?]
'Beats me.' Shrugging, Dante slumped further into his bench.
Currently, he was sitting inside a wide white room with a single door. The furnishing was very simple, with only long benches attached to the walls and a few lined up at the center of the room. There were no windows, only a number of small air vents near the ceiling.
About a hundred men were stuffed in that enclosed space. It is always advised not to judge a book by its cover, but looking at these people, one wouldn't be wrong to assume they weren't a very sophisticated bunch. They were locked up in the holding cell of a police station, after all.
