April 20th, Wednesday, 08:10 AM.

Chen Ya was already dressed, with handcuffs and a voltage anklet tightly restraining him, as he was solemnly escorted onto a bus by prison guards.

This prison transfer operation involved only minor offenders from the Light Supervision Area, so no overly stringent security measures were taken.

The entire bus was equipped with reinforced explosion-proof glass, with each window tightly sealed, surrounded by a solid iron mesh, as if draping an indestructible armor over the vehicle, ensuring the safety inside and isolation from the outside world.

Onboard were only three prison guards armed with shotguns and two escorts dressed in nano light armor, equipped with 4 million volts high-voltage stun knives.

Alongside Dong Xu, Liu Yi, Gong Court, and Zhao Zhibao, there were also eight other minor offenders on board.

Chen Ya stepped into the bus, his gaze quickly and meticulously scanning every corner like a searchlight, pausing slightly on the four team members inside the bus.

They pretended not to know each other, with two of them positioned at the front of the bus and the other two seated at the back.

Evidently, they had silently completed their task assignments before Chen Ya's arrival.

Once the bus began to slowly leave the shadow of the prison, freeing itself from the constraints of the high walls, the two in the front would swiftly take action, disarming the three prison guards with precision; simultaneously, the two in the back would silently deal with the two escorts.

Everything was in place, just waiting for Captain Chen Ya to give the decisive action command.

He would lightly touch the tip of his nose, a simple gesture filled with profound meaning:

A light touch on one nostril meant more inhaling than exhaling, implying crippling without killing; touching both nostrils meant blocking all breathing, conveying that everyone should be killed with no survivors.

In their silent communication, the team members needed no words, nor any detailed plans prior to action; they were able to prepare for battle autonomously through mutual understanding, highlighting a strong sense of initiative.

This high level of self-awareness and coordinated combat ability was precisely the extraordinary professional quality possessed by the Destiny A-Class tactical team, one of the reasons Destiny instilled fear in other organizations and deep concern in the Upper City Council.

"End the fight within 3 seconds, in 7 seconds, capable of killing everyone on the bus, including other prisoners, by the 11th second, control the driver's seat, and start the bus to leave, all assuming the captain does not take action."

Chen Ya exchanged a brief glance with the team, as if deciphering the entire action script from it.

Subsequently, Chen Ya walked slowly to the center of the bus, sitting down slowly, his head gently leaning against the window, eyes closed for two seconds.

Simultaneously, the four team members received the covert order to "remain still and continue lurking."

Their sidelong glances subtly and discreetly skimmed over the necks of the prison guards or escorts; in that instant, the excitement and eagerness that originally flickered in their eyes receded like the tide, replaced by the same shrinking expression of nervousness and fear of the future, just like the other prisoners on the bus.

"For this escort and transfer, a total of thirteen prisoners are involved; all personnel are present and accounted for, ready to depart."

The prison guard on the bus checked the list, confirmed its accuracy, then patted the back of the seat behind the driver's seat, signaling departure.

The prison guard in the front passenger seat then picked up a radio, reporting to the prison's command "tower" for approval.

On the high walls, vigilant prison guards carefully moved away the machine gun ports, and at the same time, the heavy prison electric gates slowly started, accompanied by a low mechanical rumble, moving slowly to each side, revealing a passage leading outside the prison.

Beep!

The alarm light inside the prison flashed red suddenly, sounding briefly.

The bus, starting up, hesitated slightly, seemingly disturbed by the sudden incident.

The prison guard in the front passenger seat quickly took out the radio, his voice carrying a hint of tension and inquiry: "What happened?"

The radio transmitted faint static noise, followed by the calm and composed voice from the "tower":

"A prisoner was found dead inside the prison, the manner of death somewhat unusual. However, it doesn't concern you, continue the mission, depart now."

The bus continued to leave, with a few curious prisoners peering through the windows, looking back, while Dong Xu, Liu Yi, and the others exchanged a glance without a word, then glanced at Chen Ya's seat, simultaneously sharing knowing smiles.

That smile seemed to say:

"Look at the captain, couldn't resist enlightening someone last night, in the end, a lucky guy in cell number four had his soul cleansed before departure."

…

Rewind time by 5 minutes.

Cell 2126.

Lying in the corner close to the toilet, Wang Gousheng was awakened by the urge to urinate.

He felt that last night's sleep was unusually deep, leaving his neck somewhat stiff and the back of his head vaguely aching. He reached out to touch his head and sniffed the air, detecting a faint strange odor.

"Damn it, who the hell forgot to flush the toilet again last night?"

Wang Gousheng was filled with resentment, mumbling to himself as he climbed out of bed to check the toilet. To his surprise, the toilet was exceptionally clean, with none of the usual black or yellow goo sticking to it.

Wang Gousheng gently shook his old bird, while puzzlingly sniffing the faint foul smell lingering in the air.

Following the scent, he slowly walked to the bedside, eventually standing over Yuan Dabiao's head.

As the prison bully, Yuan Dabiao habitually slept in a spread-eagle position, occupying as much space as possible, squeezing the prisoners on either side into discomfort.

But at this moment, Yuan Dabiao appeared unusually restrained; his head was resting upward, legs together, hands quietly crossed over his stomach, presenting a sleep posture that was peaceful and subdued.

His face looked tranquil, eyes tightly shut, showing no tremor, seemingly lost in sweet dreams, completely oblivious to the outside world.

Wang Gousheng lowered his head to observe carefully for a moment, feeling an indescribable sense of unease rising within him. He felt that Yuan Dabiao's current sleeping posture exuded an inexplicable eeriness, yet he couldn't specifically describe the feeling.

Suddenly, a spark of light flashed in his eyes, and he finally discovered the source of the problem. He noticed that Yuan Dabiao appeared to have a slender needle subtly inserted into his throat.

Wang Gousheng was stunned into silence, a chill crawling up his spine, as though countless cold drafts seeped out from his pores.

He gathered his courage, carefully murmuring Yuan Dabiao's name several times. Yet, Yuan Dabiao remained with eyes tightly shut, showing no response.

The surrounding inmates, startled by Wang Gousheng's voice, woke up one after another, soon noticing the odd situation, turning uniformly to look at the sleeping Yuan Dabiao.

Facing the inquisitive gazes of his fellow inmates, Wang Gousheng took a deep breath, mustering the courage. His fingers gently brushed over the slender needle, then carefully grasped it, slowly pulling upward.

"Hiss—" A subtle, drawn-out noise echoed, as if something sealed for ages had quietly been opened.

On Yuan Dabiao's smooth forehead suddenly appeared countless fine lines, like bizarre carved patterns surfacing on pottery.

These lines weren't stationary; instead, they flowed backward as if alive, fading clearly.

First the brow, then the brow arch, proceeding around the eye sockets, nose bridge, lip border… All transforming soundlessly in the quiet, resembling a water-stained ink painting, contours redrawn amidst flowing ink stains.

It was as if his entire face was dissolving, yet not being destroyed but rearranged in an incredible way.

Afterward, this change spread down his neck, chest, arms, reaching his entire body…

His body surface flowed gently, irreversibly, like a retreating tide, disappearing from the top of his head, silently slipping over the bed's edge, finally settling onto the cold ground.

Wang Gousheng terrifiedly stepped back several paces, his gaze filled with incomprehensible fear, fixated on the ground—where a complete and flat silhouette gradually emerged.

That silhouette was like a seamless, natural garment, delicately and wholly spreading across the cold ground, unnaturally smooth.

The entire cell fell into a death-like silence, even the sound of breathing seemed swallowed, time froze at that moment.

Then they collectively saw the habitually naked sleeping Yuan Dabiao on the bed, still maintaining his sleeping pose, only his entire body now displayed an unfamiliar and unsettling texture.

Fear among the crowd escalated to its peak, their throats choked by invisible hands, unable to utter a sound.

Wang Gousheng finally realized why Yuan Dabiao's sleeping posture was so disturbing—too neat, so neat that it didn't look like sleep, but rather a display.

Even more chilling, it seemed he had just shed an invisible coat, revealing his most fundamental form underneath.

At that moment, the stripped "coat" Yuan Dabiao abruptly awakened from deep slumber, his facial muscles twitched sharply, eyes suddenly opened wide—those eyes stared deadly at everyone.

"Ah—"

Screams one after another pierced the prison's silence, followed by rapid alarms echoing in the air!!!

On the bus, Chen Ya, resting with closed eyes, suddenly slightly opened them, ears catching the fading alarm sounds behind.

A faint smile surfaced on the corner of his mouth.

Chen Ya understood inside, the alarm signals that Yuan Dabiao had assumed responsibility for his crimes, cleansing the filth deep in his soul, now clean, stepping onto the road to heaven.

In this final moment, Yuan Dabiao was conveying his gratitude and farewell in this manner before his departure.

Chen Ya thought to himself: "No need to thank me, it's my duty as a tailor—to dress each ugly body in the cleanest, most respectable clothes!"

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