Chapter 253: Madman Speaks Mad Words, The Meaning of Brightness

Qian Huan had many questions in his heart, and he raised them one by one.

He asked: "Those stubborn fellows in the upper echelons of the Prison System will certainly try to obstruct us; how should we deal with that?"

Wang Cong had a ready plan in mind and answered unhurriedly, one by one.

He said: "We can sign a more favorable agreement with them, sharing even richer profits with them."

Qian Huan was not very willing in his heart; his uncle's bones were not yet cold, and Qian Huan was a petty person, with intense hatred still hidden in the bottom of his heart.

Qian Huan gnashed his teeth: "These people always think the Second Prison share reform is us cutting flesh from them; we are willing to share profits with them, but they may not be willing to share benefits with us."

Wang Cong replied: "Then sign the agreement directly with the Executive Government."

Qian Huan: "What agreement?"

Wang Cong: "An agreement to contract all death row inmates in the Nine Districts, signing with the Executive Government at a per capita price, and setting a minimum annual intake. The value these death row inmates create in the Second Prison, we will rebate a certain proportion to the Executive Government next year."

Wang Cong paused, licked his lips:

"Thus, we will never lack prisoners again; the Nine District Executive Government will provide us with a continuous stream of, the highest quality food every year — oh no, the strongest and healthiest death row inmates."

Qian Huan's eyes widened; this time his look at Wang Cong also seemed like he was looking at a devil; he murmured involuntarily:

"Wang Cong, your idea is truly too mad; this way, the people of the Nine Districts will probably all be grateful to you, single-handedly greatly improving our district's public security level."

Wang Cong's heart was unmoved by Qian Huan's praise; right now his heart was full of only Feng Mu; Prison Warden Qian Huan's praise would not cause the slightest emotional ripple in him.

But he turned the thought: "Where is the Warden praising me? These exclamations of praise are actually all directed at Feng Mu; I am merely temporarily accepting them on Feng Mu's behalf."

Thinking this way, Wang Cong felt Qian Huan's praise become pleasing to the ear, and his smile instantly became sincere and radiant.

"Yes, in the future every household in the Nine Districts should set up a plaque for Feng Mu and burn incense to worship him." Wang Cong thought this in his heart.

"... Then, regarding the audience issue, how to handle it?"

"We can divide the audience into online and offline two parts. For offline, we can adopt an invitation system and a membership system, strictly controlling the number and quality of entrants. As for online, the online broadcasting rights can be sold to TV stations or internet platforms."

"Charging fees, only ticket sales?"

"Of course not; tickets are the most basic; we can also add gambling to take a cut; in short, the bigger the plate, the more we earn, and the more ways to earn."

"Will the prisoners obey?"

"Give them good food and good clothes, don't beat them arbitrarily, let them live with dignity like a human being, and die with dignity; how could they be unwilling? If they are unwilling even then, that would be too inhuman."

"... Would it face boycotts for being too bloody?"

"Have them sign life-and-death waivers on camera, just handle it more formally; martial fights always have deaths, no deaths and it becomes match-fixing; if all else fails, we can let everyone vote anonymously online, putting the power to hold it or not in their hands."

Qian Huan, across the glass wall, felt the sparks of wisdom colliding; his face flushed red as if he were about to climax; he laughed loudly:

"Interesting; giving the voting right to everyone, whether truly given or falsely given, the result is self-evident; anyway, if it were me, I would definitely curse the bloodiness and cruelty on one hand, and firmly cast a vote in favor of continuing on the other."

When Wang Cong heard it for the first time, his reaction was exactly the same as Qian Huan's; he admired Feng Mu's insight into human nature to the point of prostrating himself in worship.

Qian Huan couldn't help but applaud: "Wang Cong, you truly make me more and more amazed; I really want to split open your head and see what exactly is inside."

Wang Cong automatically filtered and replaced his own name; these words falling into his ears became "Feng Mu, you truly make me more and more amazed..."

Wang Cong grinned, smiling like a child, sincere and innocent.

Time quietly slipped away amidst the endless questions and answers; Qian Huan's gaze toward Wang Cong gradually grew softer and more satisfied; he now truly wanted to bind Wang Cong dead to his side, making him an absolute confidant.

Qian Huan asked until his mouth was dry and tongue parched, finally unable to think of new questions for a moment, so he lightly shifted his attention to the gourd behind Wang Cong.

In fact, that conspicuous object had entered Qian Huan's line of sight from the moment Wang Cong stepped into the office, but at that time he had no curiosity about it, and was too lazy to inquire further.

Now he had to ask, to demonstrate his care for his confidant subordinate.

Qian Huan asked with a smile: "What is inside your gourd?"

Wang Cong gently stroked the gourd, his eyes holding a love that transcended life and death; he said deeply: "Inside here are my parents' ashes."

Qian Huan's face froze, question marks all over his forehead; he asked with concern: "Is it because you couldn't buy a cemetery plot? If you need help, I can arrange it for you."

If it were a day ago, Qian Huan could have helped Wang Cong solve the cemetery plot problem, and he might have been grateful; but now, Wang Cong only felt the hypocrisy flowing in Qian Huan's blood made him want to feed this "help" directly to his parents.

He shook his head: "No need; I want them to accompany me by my side forever."

Qian Huan swallowed his saliva, barely maintaining calm; he seemed to understand a bit why Wang Cong could come up with such a conscienceless plan.

A madman proposing a mad plan — isn't that only natural?

Qian Huan's mouth corner hooked a hypocritical arc: "The love between you and your parents truly moves me."

Wang Cong nodded and left; this time he didn't even need to sniff the smell in his nose; just by listening he could feel Qian Huan's hypocrisy.

"Dad, Mom, he didn't even want to ask me a single sentence — what day you left."

Wang Cong pushed open the door and walked slowly through the laser corridor; he murmured in a voice only he could hear, speaking to the gourd:

"Dad, Mom, don't be angry; I know he's a bad person, but wait a little longer; wait until Feng Mu doesn't need him anymore, then I'll feed him to you."

Bright Group Headquarters.

General Manager's Office.

Even though outside it is "daytime," the lights of the Upper City's butt shine down upon the world; the ceiling of this spacious office still has its lights on.

Sun lamps squat on the ceiling, shaped exactly like the sun, emitting dazzling white light.

Not just this office; every floor of the Bright Building, every office, even the corridors and toilets — the sun lamps on the ceiling are all identical sun-shaped, and they never go out 24 hours a day.

Because,

Isn't the meaning of Brightness just to shine, and not to be shone upon?!!

(End of Chapter)