"Roar roar roar—!"
The raucous voices of the inmates grew more dense and louder, and their furious emotions erupted, angrily venting the dissatisfaction in their hearts. The scene beca sowhat uncontrollable, but thankfully, it was all within the confines of the prison, or else things would have been troubleso. The sound reverberated around the place, with inmates both downstairs and upstairs. Infected by the fury, they too joined in the commotion. In this prison, where everyone had nothing to do and a fire pent up inside, it was like a powder keg needing only a tiny spark to explode.
The police hadn't expected the situation to escalate like this and their faces turned cold at once. They imdiately called for backup on the intercom, and soon, countless riot police arrived, firing rubber bullets at the disobedient prisoners, and once again the boiling anger was suppressed. This officer, looking coldly at Luo Zheng, thought about how there had already been several collective riots, each ignited by Luo Zheng. If this continued, there was no telling what could happen.
Invisibly, the police felt a pressure coming on, their breathing suddenly caught, and they asked in frustration, "What do you want?"
"Eh?" Luo Zheng wasn't clear on what the officer was thinking, pondering why the other inmates were making a fuss. Upon hearing the police's question, his face turned cold and he replied curtly, "What do you think?" Before understanding the situation, the best approach was to kick the question back to the other party and then act accordingly.
"You wanted more food, and we fulfilled your demand, so why the commotion?" the police shouted discontentedly, their faces stern, eyes filled with wariness, glaring at Luo Zheng as if afraid he might launch into a sudden attack.
"Did I cause a scene?" Luo Zheng shot back coldly, looking at the police officer. Seeing the officer eyeing his fist and the wall he'd hit, Luo Zheng sowhat understood and then said coldly, "If you want to be quiet, that's easy. I need better food; I can't get used to your Westerner's stuff. I want at, fruit, and vegetables."
"I can relay your demands, but I can't guarantee they'll be t. In the anti, you can't make any more noise," the police officer said coldly, glancing at the fresh blood on the wall, a chill running through his heart. This guy was not only ruthless to others but also to himself. So much blood—wasn't he afraid of rendering his arm useless?
"You want to stay quiet? Sure, give a human-shaped training dummy, an iron pillar with padding on the outside, like the shape of a person; otherwise, no one's going to get any peace," Luo Zheng sharply realized the commotion was caused by him hitting the wall and promptly seized the opportunity to make his demands.
The police officer's face showed a hint of difficulty, saying, "We don't have such things. Would a punching bag suffice? If it does, I'll report the situation, but if it doesn't, there's nothing I can do."
Luo Zheng rely let out a cold laugh without comnting, turning his back on the officer. Seeing that Luo Zheng had nothing more to say, the officer hurried off to report to the prison director. Luo Zheng didn't know if he'd be able to secure these benefits but decided to give it a try. He continued his training for a while, this ti not striking the wall but shadowboxing imaginary foes, working up a sweat, then washing up, lying on the bed, reading a book, and falling asleep.
...
The prison warden's office: upon hearing the situation relayed by the police, the warden's face turned icy cold, and his slightly closed eyes emitted a fierce light. A surge of impulsive rejection rose within him, the urge to go beat Luo Zheng himself—but as soon as he thought of Luo Zheng's terrifying combat skills, he realized that even if they could overpower Luo Zheng, his own side would likely suffer losses. It didn't add up. The more he thought about it, the more he saw Luo Zheng as a hot potato, but rembering the cash check in his pocket that he had not yet cashed in, his mood improved considerably. He said, "Give it all to him. As long as he doesn't cause a disturbance, doesn't make noise, and doesn't affect the normal order of the prison, it's fine. But he is not allowed to leave his cell or make contact with other prisoners."
"Yes," the police officer looked at the warden in confusion, agreed with a nod, and left. He was full of doubts, but did not dare to ask more. He conveyed the order, and once the free man was arranged, this police officer returned to his own office to review the internal files. There was no information about Luo Zheng at all, and he imdiately understood—this was a "depositor."
The so-called "depositor" is a term commonly agreed upon within the prison police circle. To generate benefits, the prison often accepts so people—these are the "depositors." Depositors pay a fee to the prison; it's essentially a full utilization of the prison resources to provide conveniences for those in need. As for who the depositor is and whether they have committed a cri, that is not important, nor is it necessary to ask more.
Upon learning that Luo Zheng was a depositor, the police officer lost interest. There had been such people in the past; they were not real criminals. There was no need to get upset over such individuals—as long as they paid, their requests should be t as long as they weren't dead, because as long as they were alive, they could continue to generate fees. Killing a depositor would only an the loss of inco for everyone, so why bother?
Luo Zheng's status as a depositor was quickly spread by this police officer. Everyone treated Luo Zheng well, almost worshipping him as the God of Wealth—catering to him with good food and drink. However, there was one stipulation: he was not allowed to step out of the cell even for half a step. As a result, Luo Zheng's range of movent was confined to the cell alone. This was bearable for a day or two, but over a longer period, it could drive a person to the brink of insanity from the oppression. He could only continue training to stop his brain from thinking and numb his emotions, not thinking about anything except training.
Ti passed without notice, and Luo Zheng himself did not know how many days it had been. Every day, besides training, he read books and ate als, all within the confines of his cell, not taking a step outside. Fortunately, as long as what he needed didn't exceed the principles, the prison would fulfill his requests.
One day, as Luo Zheng finished his training and was tired, soone ca to deliver food. Luo Zheng went to get it, and the old man delivering the food suddenly lowered his voice and said, "Soone asked to ask you, 'What nationality are you?'"
"Eh?" Luo Zheng was taken aback and looked coldly at the old man delivering the food. The old man, thinking Luo Zheng was about to attack, got a scare, and the bowl of food he was holding almost dropped and shattered on the ground. Fortunately, Luo Zheng reacted quickly and caught the bowl. The old man looked at Luo Zheng in panic and quickly explained, "Don't misunderstand. It was soone from cell number nine who asked to ask you. If you don't want to answer, that's fine."
"Cell number nine, who is that?" Luo Zheng asked in a lowered voice, his excitent growing. In this enclosed prison, unable to contact outsiders or step outside his cell, he had no way of escaping. Unexpectedly, soone had taken an interest in him. This was a good developnt—sothing interesting at least, since he had nothing better to do.
"I don't know, but he looks like you, of the Yellow Race," the old man hurriedly said.
"Yellow Race?" Luo Zheng was startled. The Yellow Race was not only from Huaxia Country, but neighboring countries could also be included. This was not enough to reveal anyone's identity, so he continued in a low voice, "Tell him to reveal his identity first." Luo Zheng did not dare to disclose his own identity before confirming the identity of the other party.
The old man quickly agreed and rushed off, while Luo Zheng fell into deep thought, "Yellow Race?"
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