Chapter 207: Packaging Prisoners as Commodities, a Lunatic's Whimsical Idea

That night, time seemed to stretch, becoming exceptionally long and meaningful, filled with an indescribable sense of fulfillment.

The doors of the Incineration Warehouse opened and closed frequently, like a greedy blood basin of a mouth, mouth after mouth, greedily savoring this feast.

With every opening and closing of the door, it was like ruthlessly biting down, swallowing the fresh ingredients of processed flesh and blood whole into that stomach abyss that seemed never to be filled.

As corpse after corpse was devoured, Feng Mu reached a consensus with wave after wave of prisoners, his profound thoughts quietly taking root as seeds in these criminals' hearts.

Witnessed by the burning corpses, everything seemed bright and sacred; Feng Mu's guidance was like shadows cast by flames, leading these prisoners to find the path ahead of hope and vitality.

Time gradually approached dawn.

After finishing the lesson for the last wave of prisoners tonight, Wang Cong stared at Feng Mu with bloodshot eyes, both excited and exhausted.

He said excitedly: "Feng Mu, we did it; these prisoners are all willing to cooperate with us."

Feng Mu said calmly: "They aren't cooperating with you and me; they just mistake us for a lifeline and are desperately saving themselves."

Wang Cong nodded repeatedly, then asked anxiously: "But can they really hold out? The prison guards' electric batons are much harder than bones."

Feng Mu's gaze was deep and mysterious as he said lightly: "Rest assured, prison guards are just external oppression; although fierce, an electric baton can only strike one person at a time, while the prisoners' collective behavior is internal supervision, with countless eyes and countless hands that can tear a person into pieces in an instant."

Feng Mu habitually touched his brow with his fingernails: "No matter how fierce the external oppression is, it cannot compare to their collective internal cruelty and madness; after all, no one understands prisoners better than prisoners themselves, and the most cruel ones often come from one's own people."

Wang Cong involuntarily sucked in a breath of cold air, savoring the absolute coldness revealed in Feng Mu's words, and couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart, but he still nodded in deep agreement.

Feng Mu had not actually fully confided in Wang Cong here; besides the above judgments based on human nature, the reason he could be so certain was because he still had a hidden trump card, but there was no need to tell Wang Cong about that.

Wang Cong licked his dry, cracked lips and asked hesitantly:

"So, can we continue tonight? Hmm, looking at it this way, the first step will be completed smoothly soon. Then for the second step, how can I receive more money from the prisoners?"

Feng Mu looked at Wang Cong like he was looking at a fool: "You can't collect money from the prisoners; we just reached an agreement with them. If you go back on your word now, the whole plan will fall through."

Wang Cong stood frozen, frowning, and asked confusedly: "If I don't collect money from the prisoners, how am I supposed to complete my performance targets?"

Feng Mu looked at Wang Cong with deep meaning and said thoughtfully: "What the Prison Warden wants is money, but it was never stipulated that this money must be collected from the prisoners; all along, you've just been too narrow-minded."

Wang Cong's brain crashed, his eyes full of question marks: "If the prison guards don't collect money from the prisoners, who else can they collect money from?"

A dim light flickered in Feng Mu's eyes; he had laid so much groundwork beforehand, and the purpose of cultivating and transforming Wang Cong was precisely for this.

"The first phase of transformation is complete; now is the time to inform Wang Cong of part of the early plan, to cultivate his mindset and ability to stand on his own." Feng Mu calculated silently in his heart.

He controlled the subtle reshaping of his cheekbones, meticulously carving his micro-expressions, so that his entire being exuded an unprecedented excitement and enthusiasm.

"For a long time, the prison's management method has been to treat prisoners as livestock awaiting slaughter: on one hand, driving them to work hard and produce a bit of negligible profit; on the other hand, staring at the bit of fat on their bodies and scraping it off hard."

"I'm not saying this method doesn't work, but it's too inefficient, too outdated in concept, and has long failed to keep up with the times."

"The last-place elimination system proposed by the Prison Warden this time is somewhat novel; it can create substantial revenue in the short term, but in the long run it lacks sustainability—it's the path of killing the hen to get the eggs and draining the pond to catch the fish."

"These methods cannot fully excavate the potential of this treasure called the prison. Every time I see these precious prisoners tortured to death like cheap pigs and dogs, my conscience aches unbearably, and I can't sleep for whole nights."

Wang Cong's mouth opened in surprise into a circle; he was frightened by Feng Mu's astonishing words.

He had originally thought that what Feng Mu said to the prisoners about future prison reform and such was just painting them a pie, but unexpectedly, Feng Mu seemed to be serious.

Wang Cong's teeth were chattering: "No, Feng Mu, you're serious?"

Feng Mu nodded solemnly, as if molten magma were flowing in his eyes, and he said:

"If you only focus your vision on the prisoners, only regard them as livestock, even if you slaughter them all and sell the meat, how much money can you get back?"

"But, if you package them all as scarce commodities, slap all kinds of labels on them, and display them to the countless thousands of times more guests outside the prison, taking even just a little bit from each person's wallet, that would create tenfold, a hundredfold profit for the prison."

"Most importantly, the Executive Government cannot endlessly send prisoners to the Second Prison, but the guests outside the prison are truly sustainably growing."

Wang Cong listened half-understanding; although he didn't fully understand Feng Mu's thinking, he had to admit that Feng Mu's words contained a convincing power, and the future he sketched in his words was indeed very tempting.

Wang Cong was attracted by the money prospects Feng Mu described; he held his breath and asked: "So, how do you plan to package the prisoners as commodities, and who do you plan to sell them to?"

Feng Mu split his lips to reveal forest-white teeth; he lowered his voice and whispered in Wang Cong's ear: "Like this, like this, and again like this—what do you think?"

Like a demon whispering, Wang Cong's scalp began to go numb; his eyes stared wide and round, almost popping out of their sockets. Looking at Feng Mu, it was as if he were gazing at a devil descended upon the human world.

It was nothing else; every single word in the plan Feng Mu proposed was filled with a madman's whimsical ideas.

It was truly hair-raising, yet strangely alluring, so that Wang Cong dared not and was unwilling to cover his ears. Those sounds and words were like magic, rushing into his eardrums one after another in a scramble, and then indelibly branded into his brain matter.

……..

(Chapter End)