"A foolish, insignificant spy? How amusing." The Saruman clone cackled hoarsely, clearly quite pleased with itself. It then continued its scrutiny of the others.

Perhaps due to their status as Contractors, Fang Senyan fared significantly better than the rest. Like the powerful Elven Elder in their party, this wizard's icy gaze lingered on him for dozens of seconds before the Elder's spirit utterly collapsed, leaving him sprawled on the ground until he finally recovered several hours later.

Following the "appraisal" and filtering by Saruman's avatar, everyone was herded into the prison situated at the center of the settlement. The reason it wasn't one of the surrounding caves was that Orcs, a race adept at dealing with rock, were frequently spoils captured by slaver parties. This prison wasn't just shrouded by an arcane barrier conjured by the Mage Tower; it was meticulously divided into inner and outer rings. The inner ring housed the prisoners' cells, where some Orc jailers also resided. The outer ring served as the guards' quarters, almost entirely staffed by Uruk-hai. More crucially, even if someone managed to breach the inner and outer rings, they would never escape the surveillance of the countless eyes watching from the dense network of Uruk-hai caves peppering the mountainside. It was clear that no secrets originating here were ever meant to leak out.

In this frigid expanse, the Elves, lacking proper winter garments, suffered extreme discomfort. They shivered for two more days within their icy cells. Both their physical strength and morale were severely diminished. The only beneficiaries of the low temperature were the wounded; the cold effectively halted the worsening of their injuries. Furthermore, the medicine provided by the Orcs proved remarkably effective, even causing the wound on Alita’s severed arm to heal rapidly instead of deteriorating.

Since the cells were segregated by race to avoid any unnecessary complications, Fang Senyan was overjoyed to find Reef in the same confinement area! Of course, the heavily injured Alita was there too. Their reunion was naturally a moment of immense happiness.

Upon exchanging stories, they learned that this contingent of Orcs, controlled by Saruman, had sent out a slaver party that targeted not only other species but also fellow Orcs. Moreover, Reef had personally witnessed several Uruk-hai deemed "out of control" being captured and executed. Both men were now secretly delighted with this prison sentence, wishing only that Saruman's avatar would sentence them to life imprisonment and simply forget about them.

The third day dawned bright, with a rare patch of sunlight streaming into the cell block. For the Elves, this was an undeniably luxurious treat. They scrambled, jostling to reach the narrow window to soak up the fleeting warmth. Evidently, the young Elf girl, Mist-Song, also wished to experience the sun's comfort, but she seemed to hold little status within her tribe. In this desperate situation, she was ruthlessly shoved aside and knocked to the ground by several stronger kin, leaving her to sit sadly and sob quietly.

Fang Senyan witnessed this scene, a flash of grim determination crossing his eyes, feeling deeply uncomfortable. However, he held absolutely no sway over the Elves and it seemed he could only watch helplessly. But Fang Senyan's eyes flickered; spotting the Orc guard captain nearby, he called out:

"Hey, big fellow! Yes, you, the one with the torn ear—come here!"

Because direct sunlight could damage the Orcs' eyes, all Orcs active outdoors habitually covered their eyes with black cloth—a rudimentary, mountain-style pair of sunglasses. This simple-minded guard was drawn by Fang Senyan's voice and stomped over, roaring irritably:

"Shut, your, mouth, or I'll skin, you! Torn ear, is glory!"

Fang Senyan pointed at him seriously:

"You dare show me disrespect? Be careful, I might strip you of your power!"

The Orc burst into uproarious laughter:

"Little bug, bluffing, fake words!"

Things were incredibly dull here, and hearing the exchange, several bored Orc guards came over to watch the spectacle—it seemed Orcs shared a common trait with internet trolls. Fang Senyan, conveniently having them gather, immediately tossed out a vial of Curse Potion, creating a vast cloud of toxic mist. This instantly lowered the strength of this group of simple-minded, brute-force Orcs by 6 points (it was originally three, due to a previously mentioned extra effect). These creatures’ base attributes were already inferior to the Uruk-hai, and a full 6-point strength reduction was undeniably a significant blow.

For Orcs who deeply revered strength above all else, a weakening of 6 points was nothing short of a terrifying disaster. They roared in panic, raising their weapons to face Fang Senyan, spitting froth and screaming that they would kill and eat this damned wizard.

Fang Senyan crossed his arms over his chest and drawled lazily:

"Kill me, and you'll never regain your strength. Though my meager power is far less than that of your god (referring to Saruman's avatar), it is not something you filthy fools can offend."

The Orcs exchanged glances, and the weapons held aloft slowly lowered. Their simple minds were caught in a paralyzing web of conflict and fear! The gaze they fixed upon Fang Senyan, who wielded mysterious power, became laced with a degree of awe. Fang Senyan, of course, didn't want to push things too far, so he cast out his lure:

"Naturally, I can forgive your ignorance and restore your strength, provided you agree to one small request of mine."

The Orc guard captain's eyes immediately became wary. He stuttered:

"Impossible, you, released, death, or else!"

Fang Senyan chuckled darkly:

"I don't need you to release me. See that little Elf girl in the cell opposite? Just send her over to our cell."

The Orc guard captain, clad in spiked leather armor, looked stunned for a moment. Clearly, his simple neural pathways required time to process the information. After a pause, he actually grinned suggestively at Fang Senyan and leaned in conspiratorially, giving him a thumbs-up through the iron bars:

"Woman Elf, you like? ** and them? Gekolo, me, also enjoy!"

Fang Senyan was momentarily bewildered—he hadn't expected the Orc guard captain to try and get chummy with him. But he quickly recovered. Given the Orcs' intelligence level, this wasn't likely complex maneuvering; it seemed more like they’d found common ground and mutual compatibility. He realized that even with only +3 Charisma, and the domineering handsome man Jin Kuang absent, he could still work his magic. With this in mind, Fang Senyan chuckled obscenely:

"Yes, yes, then bring her to my cell, and I won't curse you anymore."

The Orc guard captain shook his head, fear coloring his expression:

"Elf, touch, smoke, self-die, become seed! Severe punishment, death, us!!!"

Alita walked over then, and through her explanation, Fang Senyan suddenly understood. It turned out that many Elves with innate elemental talents, when pushed to despair, would ignite their own life force, causing damage to their surroundings as they transformed into a seed—a rather unique method of suicide. Fang Senyan couldn't help but recall an incident from the Harry Potter world: the Elven hymn sung by Fanny’s mistress, Danny, was probably a similar kind of ability. It seemed these Orc guards had received extremely strict orders forbidding any prisoner death.

Fang Senyan laughed heartily:

"Don't worry, she won't kill herself. If you don't believe me, go ask her if she's willing to come over? Hmm, how about this: if you meet my request, I will not only lift your curse, but I'll also treat you to a strong liquor you've never tasted."

"Strong liquor?" The moment the Orc guard captain heard "liquor," it seemed drool was about to drip from his yellowish tusks. He stammered:

"Mmm? Taste good, better than Muge wine?"

The beverage most favored by the Orcs was Muge wine, an intoxicating blend of fermented honey and fresh blood. It was sweet, carrying the stimulating scent of the blood from those they had slain—a smell Orcs adored. Many Orc armies carried barrels of Muge wine on campaigns, bringing even more for marches. Because fresh blood was required for mixing, the recipe was simple yet brutal. Fresh Muge wine was drinkable after three days, but it was generally considered best to wait a week.

Fang Senyan scoffed:

"Muge wine is what you call delicious? Do you have a cup?"

Guard Captain Gekolo immediately produced a wooden cup, still smeared with foul stains. Fang Senyan brought out his "Endless Vodka Flask" and poured him a measure. The Orc was shrewd enough to smell it first before carefully taking a sip. Immediately, the blood rushed to his eyes, which bulged wide as he downed the rest in one gulp!

"Want! Want more, cup, full! Full! Full!"

Guard Captain Gekolo’s eyes sparkled with countless tiny stars. He hopped on his feet, holding up the cup, smacking his lips frantically and yelling at Fang Senyan. By this point, the intoxicating aroma of the liquor had attracted the attention of the other guards, their eyes gleaming with avarice. Fang Senyan knew exactly what these fellows—whose main professions were bandit/thug/murderer/rapist, with guarding being merely a side job—were plotting. He pointed at the flask and instantly recalled it into his Nightmare Imprint, laughing loudly:

"If you want to snatch it by force, you've chosen the wrong target."

The group of Orcs exchanged glances, then huddled together whispering. Soon, they were nodding continuously, having reached a consensus. Guard Captain Gekolo stepped forward, his tone serious and earnest:

"Bring her over, you, give wine, how much?"

Fang Senyan was very straightforward:

"This liquor of mine requires temporary fermentation, so I will give you ten cups in total, but the final payment can only be settled tonight."