Chapter 317: You wouldn't think I'm settling a personal vendetta, would you?!!!

To seek understanding, Lou Rui had no choice but to turn his gaze toward the two people who had followed Guan Zhong over. He carefully pointed a finger at his own head, then asked with a measure of caution and confusion:

"Guan Zhong, did he suffer some kind of shock recently, or has he gone mad?"

The two who had come with Lou Rui, Song Ping'an and Jiang Li, exchanged a glance, looking at Guan Zhong, who was laughing wantonly, with eyes of unusual complexity. Unbidden, their faces showed undisguised understanding and... envy?!

Lou Rui watched the strange expressions on their faces; bewilderment slowly crept into his fierce gaze. For a moment, he even felt his bones turn a little cold.

Lou Rui liked bullying people, but he liked bullying normal people. He was unwilling to bully someone with a sick mind, let alone what looked like three of them!

Lou Rui turned around, ready to leave, not even intending to take the handcart.

However, just then, Song Ping'an and Jiang Li, who had not moved until now, suddenly stepped forward together to block Lou Rui's path.

Earlier they had not stopped Lou Rui because Guan Zhong had not given the signal. They understood that Guan Zhong wanted to catch up with an old friend, and they did not want to disturb him easily.

Now it seemed Guan Zhong was reminiscing and enjoying himself, but Lou Rui did not appreciate it at all—he was being rather ungrateful.

Wang Ping'an lightly turned his neck, his right hand steadily drawing an electric baton and flicking it out, the air crackling with electric arcs.

Lou Rui was not afraid; he had some confidence in his own martial skill. Then he saw Jiang Li slowly draw a pistol from his bosom, the dark, gloomy muzzle unhesitatingly aimed at his brow.

Yes, to ensure Guan Zhong could enjoy a perfect "reward" time, Feng Mu had specifically instructed them to go to the Guard Department to collect firearms.

Naturally, all of this was still carried out in the name of the Prison Warden.

Lou Rui's pupils contracted sharply, and the faces of several prison guards passing by to watch the excitement also changed.

Within the Second Prison District, although it was not forbidden for colleagues to resolve problems through reasoning, the nature of using firearms was entirely different.

At such close range, Lou Rui had no confidence in dodging bullets. However, he did not show too much fear; instead, he gave a cold snort:

"Pointing a gun at your own people—do you know what crime that is?"

Boom—

A crisp, clean gunshot answered him!

Lou Rui's eyes nearly bulged out. In shocked disbelief he touched his brow, but felt none of the expected warm fresh blood.

He froze for a moment, then seemed to realize something. His head stiffly lowered, and he saw his knee had been blown open, fresh blood gushing from the hole, soaking his trouser leg.

At this moment, his dulled nerve endings finally transmitted a sharp pain. Lou Rui's knee buckled, he pitched forward, and fell heavily to the ground.

He lay on his side on the icy ground, both hands clutching his injured knee, cheek pressed against the blood-stained ground. The cold, wet sensation stimulated his face, twisting it into a grimace. He stared fixedly at the figure walking toward him from behind.

Guan Zhong walked unhurriedly to Lou Rui's front, looking down at him from above. This was the first time in his life he had appreciated Lou Rui from this angle. He felt his soul purified, smiling like an innocent child.

Feng Mu's calm and gentle face involuntarily flashed through Guan Zhong's mind, and he muttered to himself:

"Thank fate for hearing my prayer, allowing me to finally meet Feng Mu today."

For a full three seconds, Guan Zhong seemed lost in some trance, then he came back to himself, greedily breathing the air.

Immediately afterward, Guan Zhong swept a glance around, as if questioning Lou Rui, yet also explaining to the prison guards watching around:

"So then, Lou Rui, you secretly participated in plotting a prison riot, causing the deaths of over a hundred colleagues—what crime would that be?"

Lou Rui glared fixedly at Guan Zhong, eyes unblinking, staring at the gun muzzle in Guan Zhong's hand as it swung back and forth, playfully aiming at his chest, his throat, his brow. His throat was dry as if he had swallowed sandpaper.

He completely could not understand what Guan Zhong was saying. His brain seemed to crash, and he could only instinctively squeeze out a few words:

"I didn't, you..."

Guan Zhong stepped on Lou Rui's knee, his shoe sole grinding ruthlessly. Lou Rui immediately spasmed all over as if electrocuted, letting out a heart-rending scream.

Guan Zhong was unmoved. Even a hint of intoxication appeared on his face, as if listening to a beautiful piece of music. He said faintly:

"We are both prison guards, so no need to say such things. It's boring.

Every prisoner locked up in the Second Prison District claims to be wronged. So even if you want to speak, you have to say something novel. Or do you think..."

Guan Zhong did not hide his villainous evil expression at all. He reluctantly moved his shoe sole away, slowly squatted down, his voice low and slow, carrying a bone-chilling ruthlessness:

"We have no evidence to come find you. You wouldn't think I want to settle a personal vendetta against you, would you? Hahahaha—"

Guan Zhong's face was too villainous. Finally, a prison guard who could not stand it stepped forward, speaking in a cold voice:

"What are you doing? Who allowed you to fire? You say he is related to the riot this morning—do you have evidence?"

Guan Zhong had been waiting for someone to ask this question. Holding a gun in one hand, he reached the other into Lou Rui's pocket and soon pulled out a mobile phone.

He opened the phone, opened the contact list, and found the phone number that "the Killer" had called from.

At this moment, the corners of his mouth curved into an "as expected" arc—a cold, confident smile. Then he asked Lou Rui in a gloomy, eerie voice:

"Explain it. Why did this person kill Gong Lao, and then call you first thing? You'd better not say you don't know!"

Guan Zhong did not explain to the prison guards around him, but directly questioned Lou Rui. Yet the information leaked between his lines, even if not detailed, was enough to set everyone's imaginations running wild when it fell on their ears.

Anyone with a bit of sense seemed to have figured something out. Their faces all darkened as they looked at Lou Rui, waiting for his explanation.

Lou Rui's gaze fixed on that inexplicable number on the mobile phone screen. He felt his brain turn into a pot of porridge.

He looked at the angry gazes of the prison guards around him, then at Guan Zhong's gloomy eyes. His face turned red and swollen, like a cooked shrimp. His tongue seemed tied in a knot, and his speech became stammering:

"I, I really... don't... don't know!!!"

Guan Zhong laughed in extreme anger, giving a scornful snort:

"Hah, don't know, heh heh. It seems you won't shed tears until you see the coffin. Fine. Since you won't explain in front of everyone, then come with us and talk slowly."

End of Chapter