The offices were all tightly closed, the doorknobs covered in thick dust and sealed with tape, giving the impression that they were not frequently visited.
“The prison was formerly a research institute,” Leon informed Yanchuan. “What you see may be the old laboratories that have already been abandoned.”
“To the left of the corridor is where the warden and the guards are,” Leon emphasized. “You should avoid going there too much; it could cause trouble.”
Yanchuan nodded.
He really wasn’t aware that the prison used to be a research institute. He wondered if this information had any relation to his mission and silently noted it down.
However, there was more to consider.
“Do you know how I can meet a guard?” Yanchuan pondered over his choice of words. “I want to find a guard who carried me to the medical room when I fainted during the inspection when I just entered the prison.”
“He put a jacket over my shoulders,” Yanchuan described. “It was a guard’s uniform jacket, and I want to return it to him, but I didn’t see his face; I only know his name.”
Leon thought for a moment.
“You can go to the place where the guards work,” he suggested. “Take the jacket with you, explain your purpose, and who you’re looking for; they won’t make things difficult for you.”
“After all,” Leon chuckled, revealing a hint of teasing common in Hesse’s demeanor, “in the prison on Confinement Island, beauties like you are quite rare.”
The machines in the laundry room were still running, the sound of gears turning a bit noisy, with a pile of unwashed clothes in the corner, creating a generally poor environment.
Yet, a dark-haired, dark-eyed Oriental beauty sat obediently on the laundry room floor.
He was strikingly beautiful, possessing an unusually soft and delicate visage for someone of Western descent. His elegant brows framed eyes as clear and moist as if filled with water, with long and thick lashes resembling raven feathers.
His nose slightly arched, creating a very cute curve, and his lips were a light rose color, small but full and round.
His physique was slender, with a frame much smaller than anyone else in the prison, resembling particularly fragile and exquisite porcelain.
A smudge of dust adorned his snow-white cheeks, lending him a resilient and independent air.
In this closed, hierarchically strict prison, he bloomed like a small rose.
“I’m dying, everyone likes Yan Bao.”
“Ah, something feels off.”
“But Mommy still feels so sorry for Yan Bao doing the rough work in the script… Where did the dead guy who bullies Yan Bao go? Can’t your wife help her with the work just because she didn’t agree?!”
“Is anyone here to save me? I really like prison scripts; my mind is filled with images of the delicate and beautiful Eastern little rose being crushed by a group of bad people, wuwuwu.”
Yanchuan gathered some information about Confinement Island Prison from Leon.
For instance, the prison was originally a research institute; he didn’t know what they researched, but many artificial pits had been dug in the mountains behind the prison, and he wasn’t aware of what was buried inside.
Another detail was the warden’s name; Leon said he was called Ariel, and he was the one who established the classification of criminals into levels A to F in Confinement Island Prison.
There was also talk about the “competition” that was to occur in two days.
The “competition” was essentially an internal ranking contest in the prison, where prisoners of the same level could compete, and even challenge those above their level for a chance to ascend.
Winners would receive rewards, but losers faced grim fates.
They would become targets of bullying by everyone for a period, eventually being taken away by the guards.
The guards not only tolerated this vicious competition but actively supported it, treating the energetic prisoners like pets.
When Yanchuan heard about the competition, he rubbed his neck uneasily.
Though he was already at the lowest F level, fighting against others in the prison… he would rather not.
He had no hope of winning against anyone.
Leon also mentioned that if someone allied with a powerful supporter and received their protection, they wouldn’t have to participate in such competitions.
While saying this, he subtly mentioned Hesse.
Yanchuan knew very well what Leon meant.
He was simply curious about why he wouldn’t accept Hesse’s proposal and align himself with this rising force among newcomers.
After all, one could avoid hard labor and enjoy better food, so why not agree?
Yanchuan pressed his lips together.
He still didn’t quite like Hesse; he seemed too intimidating, and his gaze felt unsettling.
To seek Hesse’s support… he surely wanted something from him.
Yanchuan was not fond of Hesse’s stare.
At this point, Yanchuan thought of another person.
The doctor at Confinement Island Prison, Navi.
This doctor had also expressed similar thoughts while treating him, asking if he was looking for a supporter.
Yanchuan found their questions baffling.
Could he not just be someone who worked diligently and honestly every day, striving to complete his tasks?
His thoughts were soon shattered.
It was simply because the cafeteria food was so terrible.
The next day, when Yanchuan saw the sticky corn chowder again and the hard bread that felt like it could smash a table, he fell silent.
Today, there was even no rice served.
Yanchuan sat in silence.
He unconsciously glanced at the tray of food being served to another line.
As usual, it looked lavish.
Juicy grilled steaks, soft bread smeared with jam, and even post-meal fruits, sweet oranges, and blueberries.
The disparity in treatment was glaring! Aren’t you escape variety show people a bit too keen on targeting contestants?
Yanchuan carried his tray and felt a tremendous frustration before he even ate.
Angrily, he sat down in a corner and sipped hot water.
After two more bites of the hard bread, he was already completely full without eating much.