Li Bashan nodded slightly, his large hand as broad as a palm leaf grasped Song Heng's shoulder and, with an effortless push, sidestepped him with ease, then briskly walked away carrying a wooden bucket.

Song Heng felt his scalp tingle and split with fear as the enormous hand swept over his head, momentarily blocking his view.

In that brief moment, he felt as if the blood in his veins had frozen, a chill shooting from his spine to his head, his entire body engulfed in fear and shock.

It's not an exaggeration; the reason Song Heng was promoted to be the division head is that his combat power, for better or worse, had reached the third grade level.

Therefore, when faced with a powerful life force, his body naturally developed a subtle instinctual warning, a reflexive response of a Martial Artist to a potential threat.

What kept him from losing courage entirely was still his mere third-grade power level.

If his level were to rise to the fifth or even sixth grade, his fear of Li Bashan would increase tenfold or a hundredfold; perhaps he would even overlay Li Bashan's figure with the monster in his memory.

Song Heng fearfully turned his head, his gaze following Li Bashan's receding figure, his face burning as if scorched by flames.

He glanced around, and the prison guards were all silent, avoiding eye contact, as if fearing crossing glances with him.

"Now you understand why none of us are vying for that position, right?"

"Amidst a pack of hyenas, there's a lone tiger. While this tiger remains quiet as if harmless, surely no one actually believes it's harmless, right?"

"On the contrary, the more harmless it seems, the longer we interact, the more terrified everyone becomes."

A chill ran through Song Heng's heart, and he suddenly understood a truth: in this closed ecosystem of prison, sitting in that position does not make you that role, but rather…

Song Heng turned and hurried to the office of Zhou Hu, the Prison Chief, without saying a word. Whoever wants the position of division head of Section B can have it; he couldn't bear it even for another day. All he wished for now was to return to Zone C and regain his post as team leader.

Don't ask why. The reason is because he holds fame and wealth in contempt, and he can't bear to leave his old brothers in Zone C!

.....

From the first day on duty after reporting to prison, Feng Mu was assigned the night shift, a treatment no one else received.

Walking down the prison corridors, monotonously patrolling back and forth.

Originally, such frequent patrols weren't necessary, as surveillance cameras are installed at intervals along the corridor, serving as sleepless sentinels monitoring every corner of the prison.

However, orders from Captain Tian Tao constantly coming through the walkie-talkie left Feng Mu no choice but to keep pacing back and forth in the corridor.

"There's disturbance in cell 2104, go check it out immediately."

"The camera at the front of corridor 2117 is out of position, go manually adjust it."

"There's a prisoner beaten in cell 2005, go handle it."

"A prisoner died in 2087, go take care of the body and have Qin Liang come write the autopsy report."

"....."

Feng Mu spent the entire night shuttling back and forth in the prison, dealing with all kinds of cumbersome tasks. These endless chores were far more exhausting than practicing martial arts.

Though martial arts training is tough, it accumulates experience and enhances skill proficiency, whereas these petty matters only drain energy and relentlessly test your endurance limits.

Wang Cong followed Feng Mu, assisting him, his hair even greasier and his eyes more bloodshot, the whole person seemed on the brink of collapse, yet he gritted his teeth and kept up.

Watching Feng Mu handle things systematically one by one, with no sign of impatience on his face, responding politely to the voices in the walkie-talkie, and calmly reasoning with prisoners causing disturbances in the dead of night to settle disputes.

Wang Cong was utterly bewildered; several times he couldn't resist pulling out his electric baton to beat the prisoners, but was always stopped by Feng Mu's amiable intervention.

Despite being bullied by colleagues in the prison, Wang Cong was still quite assertive facing prisoners, or perhaps because he was constantly bullied by his colleagues, he had accumulated too much resentment, making it hard to hold back his emotions in front of the prisoners. Over the past six months, the number of prisoners he had beaten to death or maimed wasn't even a few.

Watching Feng Mu peacefully resolve another dispute and meticulously record the cause, process, and outcome of the incident in a notebook, having the involved prisoners sign and leave their red fingerprints on it confirms his dedicated approach though it seemed more suited to recording confessions than dealing with convicts in prison. One might wonder, are these records meant to extend their sentences?

Finally, Wang Cong couldn't hold back, whispering, "Feng Mu, is it necessary to be this thorough? They're just a few troublemaking prisoners, wouldn't it be simpler to just beat them with an electric baton?"

Looking at the densely filled notebook in his hand, Feng Mu replied gently, "I don't have a good memory, so I choose to write everything down, so when I come to advise these prisoners in the future, it's not just empty talk."

Hearing Feng Mu mention advising these prisoners in the future left Wang Cong speechless; he looked at Feng Mu as if he were a fool, completely unable to comprehend Feng Mu's thought process.

Seeing Wang Cong's expression, Feng Mu could tell he misunderstood. What he meant by advising in the future wasn't what Wang Cong thought; he intended to adopt a different approach in the future to let prisoners with conflicts resolve their issues in a fair and open manner once and for all.

Feng Mu believes in treating friends with genuine heart, neither deceiving nor hiding, and seeing Wang Cong didn't understand, he decided to explain in a different way:

"I believe that as prison guards, we should cherish every item and every inch of space in the prison as if they were in our own home."

"Especially when dealing with prisoners, we should be extra caring and protective. Although they've made mistakes, within this big family, they are our most valuable treasure."

"As prison guards, we shouldn't beat or kill them but should educate and guide them, helping them rediscover their self-worth."

Wang Cong's mouth dropped open in disbelief; he couldn't understand what nonsense Feng Mu was spouting. All he felt was that Feng Mu's rhetoric and tone sounded nothing like an ordinary prison guard but more like a politician giving a campaign speech, full of justice and humanistic brilliance.

Shaking his somewhat swollen head, Wang Cong looked at Feng Mu with an indistinct expression, unclear if it was mockery or admiration, saying, "Feng Mu, you're not cut out to be a prison guard, you should be the Prison Chief instead."

Feng Mu's expression remained unchanged, answering warmly, "Hmm, I'll seriously consider your suggestion."

....

P.S.: Tian Cong was renamed to Wang Cong to avoid confusion while reading with Tian Tao.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.