Chapter 220: Messing with Other People's Things Is Very Dangerous

The corpses next door are moved next door — this falls under the Prison's proximity principle.

Feng Mu calmly directed Chen Ya, Wang Jiao, and the other prisoners, carefully gathering the scattered corpse fragments piece by piece and reassembling them whole, then, in pairs, carried the corpses one by one to the Incineration Room.

This stretch of road was very short, yet seemed extraordinarily long — so long that Wang Jiao and several other prisoners felt they had walked a long lifetime, their faces showing clear anxiety and impatience.

Feng Mu took in all their expressions, but didn't say much.

Pushing open the Incineration Room's door, a heat wave rushed them; the prisoners sweated profusely, the Qi and Blood in their bodies steamed by the heat wave, their gazes gradually tinged with blood-red, veins bulging on their faces, turning ferocious.

As the last corpse was thrown into the Incinerator, Feng Mu let out a faint sigh, scanned the prisoners, and said gently with apology: "Their deaths are ultimately due to my negligence, so, do you blame me?"

Chen Ya had by now quietly circled to the Gate, and lightly pulled the heavy Iron Door shut, locking it from the inside.

Seeing Feng Mu seemingly unaware, still immersed in apology and self-reproach for the lost prisoners, the prisoners exchanged a covert glance.

Then almost in unison they said: "Feng Yujing, you're a good person, we don't blame you!"

Tss!

The sound of a sharp blade slicing through air rang out; a toothbrush ground to exceptional sharpness rapidly enlarged in Feng Mu's pupils.

The cold-white toothbrush was held in reverse grip by the tall thin prisoner; the bristles at the rear end trembled violently. Feng Mu's gaze was calm as he saw, on the arm clutching the toothbrush, blue veins bulging ferociously.

The tall thin prisoner suddenly sprang up, simultaneously letting out a hoarse roar: "So, don't blame us either."

At the same time, two burly prisoners beside him also erupted into action, one left one right — one spread his arms and tightly locked Feng Mu's waist, the other swiftly reached out, grabbing fast for the Electric Baton at Feng Mu's waist.

Their gazes were equally mad and fierce, their mouths letting out beast-like howls: "We just want to live aaaaaah——"

Wang Jiao and the remaining few prisoners who reacted half a beat slow also hurriedly followed suit.

Their palms spread rapidly, slick with sweat, tightly gripping the toothbrushes sliding from their sleeves, their mouths letting out ragged, voice-tearing, chaotic roars.

"Mm, I don't blame you."

A clear, cold yet peaceful voice blended into the chaotic, manic roars, like a basin of ice water poured into a pot of boiling oil, instantly stirring up explosive smoke.

No, not smoke — that was black-red blood rain, like the most reeking heavy rain of autumn, pouring down in sheets, splashing and spraying, mercilessly covering every person's hair ends, faces, and necks.

That wet, scalding liquid, carrying the warmth of life and the cruelty of finality, made every person present instantly stiffen, frozen in place like statues.

Their gazes were as if frozen by a Remote Control, terrified and unable to look away, staring straight ahead at that tall thin corpse.

That corpse's head had already shattered and vanished, leaving only a bowl-sized neck exposed to the air, blood gushing upward like a waterfall, bathing them.

The headless corpse's arm still held stiffly aloft, the bloodstained toothbrush suspended a finger's distance from those calm, lightless eyes, yet like a Tian Qian, unable to advance even a single centimeter further.

"To want to live, you must be prepared to die; I walked that same path."

Feng Mu spoke softly, his voice revealing a composure and understanding born of weathering vicissitudes,

"So I completely understand you."

Feng Mu slowly loosened his five fingers; fine bone fragments and blood intertwined and slid down; his expression remained calm, his smile still carrying its usual gentleness and understanding.

Only, as he spoke, he lightly waved his arm again.

The burly prisoner embracing him hadn't even time to react before he felt as if struck by an invisible bulldozer; his whole body instantly lost balance and flew backward like a kite with its string cut.

With a loud boom, his body slammed hard against the Incinerator Door behind him.

The Incinerator Door trembled violently from the impact, even denting a clear crater.

And that prisoner then slid slowly to the ground in an extremely bizarre posture; his chest was completely caved in, as if turned into a sheet of crimson Paper Man.

Wang Jiao and the other prisoners' faces turned paper-white in an instant; their hearts raced to the extreme, as if about to burst from their chests and rush up their throats.

They were terrified to the utmost, gazes fixed on Feng Mu's face that still wore a gentle smile, yet they felt not a trace of the former warmth and reassurance, replaced instead by an unfathomable chill.

Behind that smile, the eyes hid endless darkness and ruthlessness, making them feel a soul-deep trembling.

The more they once felt Feng Yujing was like a good person, a beam of light in darkness, the more they now felt Feng Yujing was like a monster wearing human skin; even the Incineration Room's scalding air around him seemed cooled, like an Abyss swallowing all light and heat.

"Sorry to scare you; I still can't control my strength well, but rest assured, I'll piece your corpses back together whole later." Feng Mu said apologetically.

"Aaaaaah—— Go die aaaaaah——"

The burly prisoner screamed wildly, face twisted, eyes filled with madness and despair.

He suddenly grabbed the Electric Baton at Feng Mu's waist, yanked it hard, raised it high, arm trembling as he swung it down, simultaneously pushing the voltage Power Switch with his thumb.

Feng Mu stepped back half a step, his tone heavy with admonition: "Didn't your mother teach you as a child not to mess with other people's things?"

"What?" Intense pain shot through the burly prisoner's shoulder; electric arcs crackled and burst, like a wildly dancing silver snake.

Then, a thick arm spun and slammed into the wall beside them, branding a charred black mark on the white wall surface.

The baton that burst apart in midair fell in two sections, hitting the ground, still crackling with electric arcs; a waft of fragrant burnt meat smell spread through the cramped room, stimulating everyone's sense of smell.

The burly prisoner let out a miserable howl of pain; his other hand tightly clamped over that charred-black arm wound; the wound was charred and curled, shocking to behold; the good news was it had already stopped bleeding.

He couldn't see the wretched state of his own profile, but the prisoners beside him, Wang Jiao and the others, saw it clearly.

They saw that right cheek pitted and hollowed, black and red flesh interwoven, blood slowly seeping from the wound, forming a horrifying scene.

His right ear was almost gone, only half remaining, hanging by a thin layer of skin, dangling precariously.

Feng Mu's remaining half-sentence of warning came belatedly: "Messing with other people's things is very dangerous!"

(End of Chapter)