Chapter 187: Feng Mu, Prison Warden?

Li Bashan gave a slight nod, his palm wide as a palm-leaf fan resting on Song Heng's shoulder; with a light push he casually shoved him aside, then grabbed the wooden bucket and left in swift strides.

Song Heng felt his scalp go numb and his head about to split; that huge hand swept over his head and instantly blocked his line of sight.

In that brief moment, he felt the blood in his body congeal, a chill shooting straight from his spine to the top of his head, his whole body enveloped by fear and shock.

Don't think this is an exaggeration; Song Heng had risen to District Chief because his martial prowess had at least reached the Third Grade level.

Precisely for this reason, when facing a powerful living being, his body naturally produced a subtle intuitive warning—an instinctive reaction of a Martial Artist to potential threats.

The reason this situation had not completely robbed him of his courage was still due to his current Third Grade strength.

If his grade could rise another level, reaching the height of Fifth Grade or even Sixth Grade, then his fear of Li Bashan would increase tenfold or a hundredfold, and perhaps he might really overlap Li Bashan's figure with the monster in his memory.

Song Heng turned his head with lingering fear, his gaze following Li Bashan's receding figure, his face burning as if scorched by fierce fire.

He looked around; the Prison Guards were all silent, their gazes avoiding his, as if afraid their eyes would meet his.

You finally understand why none of us fight for that position anymore, right?

A tiger mixed into a pack of hyenas—although this tiger never made a sound, seeming harmless to humans and animals alike, surely no one would really think he's harmless.

On the contrary, the more he acted harmless, the longer they got along, the more chilled everyone felt in their hearts.

A chill rose in Song Heng's heart; he suddenly understood a truth: in this closed ecosystem of the Prison, it wasn't that sitting in that position made you that role, but rather...

Song Heng turned and left without a word, rushing toward Zone Chief Zhou Hu's office; whoever wanted to be District Chief of B Division could have it, anyway he didn't want to do it for another day—he just wanted to hurry back to C Ward and resume his Captain's post.

Don't ask; asking means treating fame and profit like dirt, unable to bear giving up the old brothers of C Ward!

Assigned to the night shift on his first day in prison—Feng Mu's treatment was truly unmatched.

Walking the prison corridor, patrolling back and forth in tedious repetition.

Originally, such frequent patrols were not necessary; after all, Surveillance Cameras were installed at intervals along the corridor, like sleepless sentinels monitoring every corner of the prison at all times.

However, Captain Tian Tao's orders occasionally coming through the Walkie-Talkie forced Feng Mu to keep moving without rest, constantly running back and forth in the corridor.

"There's movement in Cell 2104; go take a look immediately."

"The Surveillance Camera at the front section of the 2117 corridor is out of position; go manually calibrate it."

"A Prisoner in Cell 2005 was beaten; go handle it."

"A Criminal died in 2087; go collect the corpse, and have Qin Liang come fill out the autopsy form."

In one night, Feng Mu bustled back and forth through the Prison, handling all sorts of tedious affairs. These endless chores were more exhausting than Cultivating Martial Arts.

Cultivating Martial Arts was hard, but it accumulated experience and improved Proficiency; these trivial matters, besides draining energy, constantly tested the limits of one's patience.

Wang Cong followed at Feng Mu's side, handling things together; his hair was greasier, the bloodshot veins in his eyes denser, his whole person seeming on the verge of sudden death, yet he still gritted his teeth and followed.

Watching Feng Mu handle each matter one by one in an orderly fashion, with no impatience on his face, his voice over the Walkie-Talkie full of politeness, speaking calmly and reasonably even to Prisoners who made noise without sleeping in the middle of the night, resolving disputes and conflicts.

Wang Cong was deeply puzzled in his heart; several times he couldn't help but pull out his Electric Baton to beat the Prisoners, but each time Feng Mu stopped him with a gentle and pleasant expression.

Although Wang Cong was bullied by his colleagues in the Prison, when facing Prisoners he was still relatively tough—or rather, precisely because he was often bullied by colleagues, too much Resentment Qi had accumulated in his heart, so when facing Prisoners he couldn't help but vent his emotions; in the past half year, the Prisoners beaten to death or crippled by him were not just one or two.

Watching Feng Mu peacefully resolve another dispute, and in the Notebook record in detail the causes of the quarrel among several Prisoners during that incident, the handling process and results, and very seriously have the involved Prisoners sign and press Red Handprints on the Notebook to confirm.

Doing things strictly and rigorously, almost like registering a Prisoner's criminal confession; but the problem was, this was a Prison—they were already incarcerated Prisoners; was recording these things to add to their sentences?

Wang Cong finally couldn't hold back and asked in a low voice: "Feng Mu, is it necessary to go to such lengths? Just a few troublemaking Prisoners—wouldn't pulling out the Electric Baton and giving them a beating make them obedient?"

Feng Mu looked at the densely written Notebook in his hand and said in a gentle voice: "My memory isn't very good, so I choose to record everything with a pen; that way, when I come to advise these Criminals again in the future, I won't be speaking without evidence."

Hearing Feng Mu say he would still come to advise these Criminals in the future, Wang Cong was speechless; he looked at Feng Mu as if looking at a Fool, completely unable to understand Feng Mu's train of thought.

Feng Mu could tell from Wang Cong's expression that the other had misunderstood; the "advice" in his mouth was not the "advice" Wang Cong thought; he planned to change the form in the future, so that Prisoners with conflicts between them could resolve their problems once and for all in a more just and open form.

Feng Mu treated friends with sincerity for sincerity, never deceiving or concealing; seeing that Wang Cong didn't understand, he changed his way of explaining:

"I think that as a Prison Guard, we should love every item and every inch of space in the Prison as we love our own Home."

"Especially toward Prisoners, we should give them double the care and protection. Although they have made mistakes, in this big family, they are equally our most precious wealth."

"As Prison Guards, we should not beat or kill them, but should educate and guide them, helping them realize their own value again."

Wang Cong's mouth gaped open; he found Feng Mu's words increasingly incomprehensible, feeling only that Feng Mu's manner and tone at this moment were nothing like an ordinary Prison Guard, but rather like those Councilors on TV giving election speeches, full of the radiance of justice and humanity.

Wang Cong shook his slightly dizzy head, looking at Feng Mu with an unclear expression, not knowing whether to mock or praise: "Feng Mu, you shouldn't be a Prison Guard; you should be the Prison Warden."

Feng Mu's expression remained unchanged, and he said in a gentle voice: "Hmm, I will seriously consider your suggestion."

ps: Tian Cong has been renamed Wang Cong, afraid everyone would confuse him with Tian Tao while reading~

(End of Chapter)