Chapter 135: Consultation, Prison

Strength 8.9 corresponds to Fist Force Level 11.2.

Agility 6.2 corresponds to Attack Speed Frequency 7.3.

A stack of low-grade martial arts, either Perfection or Limit Break, corresponds to Technique Rating Stage 5.1?

As for the specific calculation formulas corresponding to the first two items, Feng Mu couldn't deduce them; as for the final technique score, Feng Mu was even less sure of the judging criteria.

But it didn't matter; Feng Mu wasn't a data enthusiast and couldn't be bothered to study the underlying data conversion principles—he belonged to the experiential school.

In Feng Mu's view, true strength couldn't be measured by simple addition and subtraction.

Whether one could be invincible among peers or achieve a cross-rank counter-kill could only be determined in a true life-and-death struggle.

Only real combat could truly test where one's limits lay!

The values on the detection form were, plainly speaking, for coping with and filling out resumes; fundamentally, they were an intuitive and lazy method of talent assessment.

Li Bashan put away the detection form, patted Feng Mu's shoulder, and said in a muffled voice: "Junior Sister, don't trust data too much; numbers are dead, people are alive."

Feng Mu nodded slightly, a look of understanding in his eyes: "Senior Brother, rest assured, I understand."

Li Bashan nodded slightly in satisfaction, then strode out of the Martial Arts Hall.

Feng Mu turned back to the courtyard and continued his morning practice, noon practice, evening practice...

Feng Mu almost never stopped, only taking a break for lunch to consult Second Senior Sister Liu Xie on some professional questions.

For example, he asked how to cleverly weave traces suggesting a dead person was still alive, making everything appear seamless;

he was also particularly worried his sister might go astray, so he urgently wanted to know how to track her location remotely and in real time;

additionally, he asked Liu Xie whether the Enforcement Division possessed some excellent covert photography tools so he could conduct investigations more effectively.

Liu Xie quietly listened to her junior brother's consultation; her usually placid face, and her gaze toward Feng Mu, carried a hint of strangeness.

However, Liu Xie still patiently answered Feng Mu's various questions one by one; her professional guidance left Feng Mu feeling greatly benefited.

During this process, Fifth Senior Brother Gong Qi listened with great interest, his eyes showing strong interest.

He especially enthusiastically displayed his superb computer skills, volunteering to provide powerful technical support for his junior brother.

Gong Qi's fingers danced lightly on the keyboard, like a performer sweeping notes across piano keys, as various strange software interfaces opened one after another on the screen.

He quickly and accurately entered a dizzying string of code, then turned and nodded at Feng Mu, signaling him to enter Feng Yuhuai's phone number on the computer.

As Feng Mu's number was entered, Gong Qi lightly pressed the Enter key, a confident smile curling at the corner of his mouth, and said lightly: "Junior Sister's problem is easily solved; one SMS link will do."

To ensure absolute safety, Gong Qi cleverly used virtually generated numbers to continuously send over a dozen text messages in a barrage.

Hong Ya watched from the side for a while; she sensed that Junior Sister seemed overly concerned about her sister Feng Yuhuai, and couldn't help but feel a slight misgiving.

She pursed her lips slightly, also feeling a bit bored, while her heart sank slightly, and a strong sense of urgency quietly arose.

She quickly ran back to the front desk, squatted on her throne, opened the laptop she had taken from Fifth Senior Brother, skillfully logged into the video website, and began binge-watching dramas.

Hong Ya thought, she couldn't binge-watch dramas tonight; she had to intensify her cultivation, so she had to watch dramas in advance during the day to make up for the lost time.

Such an arrangement, though somewhat tiring, Hong Ya was willing to strive for it to maintain Junior Sister's dignity and status.

Jiumu Erhao Jianyu.

Towering alloy walls like impregnable steel fortresses, covered with complex high-voltage grids, electric light flickering, reflecting a layer of thickened tempered glass, like a transparent barrier completely isolating the inner and outer worlds.

Below the glass, red cameras were densely distributed; they were like the eyes of demons, flashing cold red light in the dim light, overlooking everything below at all times, monitoring every move of the prisoners.

Inside the walls were irregular hole clusters, like carefully designed traps; cold-colored gun ports were arranged grimly inside the holes, like deadly snake heads hidden in the dark, ready to unleash a terrible metal storm at any moment when warnings proved ineffective, mercilessly tearing the prisoners on the square into pieces.

The cold metal door made a clanging sound, slowly opening a narrow gap, like an entrance to another world.

Li Bashan, expressionless, stepped heavily on the cold stainless steel floor, the sound echoing in the spacious prison corridor.

He walked on, expressionlessly passing through one heavy door after another, each time needing to swipe his work card, accompanied by the beep of electronic identification; the gun turrets hanging on the door would retract into the ceiling before the access control system clicked open.

This prison was cleverly cut by intersecting corridors and precise access control systems into multiple mutually disconnected areas, like a maze woven from steel.

Each security zone was given a numerical designation, as if through numbering, humans artificially dismembered this closed world into different territories:

Area 1 Light Supervision Zone, a relatively lenient place of confinement, imprisoning criminals with lighter crimes;

Area 2 Heavy Supervision Zone, closed and sturdy, detaining prisoners with serious crimes requiring strict supervision;

Area 3 Death Row Zone, gloomy and silent, a cold final station for criminals sentenced to capital punishment heading to their ultimate destination;

Area 4 VIP Zone, like an isolated island in this prison, independent from the severity and coldness of other areas; it provided relatively comfortable living conditions for prisoners with special identities, a gentle corner hidden behind harsh sanctions;

Area 5 Forbidden Zone...

Each security zone governed itself and operated independently; on this closed map, they were like individual territories.

In their respective territories, the various Zone Chiefs were undisputed lords, holding the power of life and death within their territories.

Above these territories sat a nominally supreme king—Prison Warden Qian Huan.

The Prison Warden's office area was located in the heart of this huge prison; it was not only a symbol of power but also a transport hub connecting the various security zones, like a mysterious pivot controlling the lifeline of the entire prison.

This area was heavily guarded, and its guard force was unmatched in the entire prison.

Faintly visible in the wall openings were not ordinary gun barrels, but a series of coldly gleaming laser emitters.

They lay dormant silently; although currently in a closed state, Li Bashan knew well that these cold machines only needed one second of activation to spray out terrifying high temperatures capable of melting all living things.

In this area, every inch of space was filled with potential threats, silently reminding anyone attempting to transgress that the prison's rules were not to be challenged.

Li Bashan walked through the laser corridor without fear and knocked on Prison Warden Qian Huan's office.

"Come in!" a faint voice came from inside the door.

Li Bashan pushed the door open and walked straight to the office desk; he walked straight to the office desk, his rough large hand slapped heavily on the desktop, neatly spreading out a job application and a detection form.

Qian Huan's gaze fell on Li Bashan's giant-like physique; on his face, which was always deliberately stern, a rare trace of helplessness appeared.

He frowned slightly, sighed lightly, and said: "Li Bashan, you always do this, making it difficult for me, the Prison Warden!"

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End of Chapter