“Can you let my wife take a break? It feels really exhausting to be in this script.”
“I’m about to cry; only I can’t touch my wife.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore…” As Yu Guang caught a glimpse of Hesse’s glowing green eyes, Yan Chuan nervously pressed his lips together.
He still remembered what this person had said to him.
His delicate legs curled inward, the tops of his feet tense, and his rounded toes pressed tiny indentations into the bed sheet.
Yan Chuan pushed against Hesse, trying to pry his hand away. “Don’t touch me, just go down…”
He spoke softly, “I want to sleep.”
“I’m really tired,” the eastern beauty said, his eyes still wet and red, his dark, soft hair slightly tousled. He pressed his lips together, “I worked hard all day; I just want to sleep now.”
His voice was soft, sounding almost like he was whimpering, unconsciously elongating the final syllable.
“Can I sleep, please?” He lowered his head, tugging at the blanket that Hesse was pressing down upon him. “I’m so sleepy…”
He was indeed acting cute.
His voice barely above a whisper, his eyelashes quivered, fearful of Hesse rejecting him.
“Alright.” To Yan Chuan’s surprise, Hesse easily let go of his hand.
Yan Chuan breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the blanket, trying to cover his legs exposed to the air.
Hesse still pressed against the bed.
With his eyes cast down, Yan Chuan hesitated, unsure whether to ask Hesse when he would get off him, when Hesse spoke again.
“Your leg is cut,” Hesse said. “You shouldn’t work tomorrow; stay with me instead.”
Yan Chuan hesitated, “I’m okay… I don’t think that’s necessary…”
But Hesse insisted.
“Aren’t you bored just staying here?” he tugged at the corners of his mouth, putting on a smile familiar to Yan Chuan. “Don’t you want to go somewhere else with me?”
Yan Chuan replied, “Um…?”
Hesse meant what he said.
Yan Chuan was unsure when Hesse figured out the layout of the prison on Closing Island and bribed the guards, leading Yan Chuan confidently through the corridor where the guards congregated as if they weren’t there at all.
Yan Chuan saw familiar and unfamiliar faces, catching various glances directed at them, wanting to lower his head to the ground.
Looking at Hesse, who remained expressionless in front of him, Yan Chuan thought somewhat speechlessly.
Who exactly is the participant here? How did Hesse manage to learn the prison layout in just a few days?
Thinking of his own lack of progress on tasks, Yan Chuan suddenly felt Hesse was much more dedicated than he was.
While he was diligently working in the laundry room, unsure of how to complete his task, Hesse had already explored to this extent?
What was he, an actual participant, supposed to do?
Pressing his lips together, Yan Chuan went through a whirlwind of thoughts in the short time it took to walk through the corridor.
However, he also paid close attention to the path Hesse was taking, secretly contemplating the prison layout.
The design of Closing Island Prison was peculiar.
The area designated for inmates was a large section, resembling a circular zone. The guards’ work area surrounded it, forming a ring.
The entire prison was set below ground, excavated about four to five meters deep, with facilities installed in the hollowed-out center to create the current prison.
Typically, prisons have an area for outdoor time, but Closing Island Prison did not, as this prison was underground.
No wonder the lights stayed on even during the day.
Yan Chuan watched Hesse lead him onto something like an elevator, quickly rising to the surface.
A vast expanse of ocean unfolded before Yan Chuan.
His view suddenly expanded, the deep blue sea seemed to stretch endlessly to the horizon, merging into a line at the edge.
It was genuine ocean, boundless and dark, and where they stood was a solitary island.
Ahead was the ethereal, unsupported sea, and behind them loomed the sunken, cold prison. Yan Chuan stood on the overgrown ground, the sea’s unique salty and fishy scent filling his nostrils.
The air was damp, tinged with a slight fishiness, making Yan Chuan wrinkle his nose, realizing this was the long-awaited fresh air.
Not far away was a lookout tower with armed guards inside. For some reason, seeing just the two of them standing boldly there didn’t trigger any reaction.
A flicker of doubt arose within Yan Chuan.
Hesse had entered Closing Island Prison with him, but why did he seem so much more at ease, even navigating amongst the guards?
Yan Chuan remembered that the “Closing Island Prison” was a single-player script, with only him as a participant, and everyone else was NPCs.
Hesse’s identity was still “the chosen heir of a certain gang leader.”
Yan Chuan lowered his gaze.
When he first heard that, he was quite surprised. Why had Hesse entered with such an identity?
This question wasn’t born out of the belief that such an identity could exempt one from the law, but based on Yan Chuan’s experience or the knowledge he had, escape scripts typically aren’t set in normal societies.
Very few scripts operate under strict laws and harmonious societies.
Moreover, Hesse seemed quite familiar, as if he had a purpose in entering.
Thus, he looked even more suspicious.
Yan Chuan bit his lips.
“How did you…” he looked at Hesse, displaying a hint of confusion in his expression, “How did you persuade the guards?”
This group didn’t seem too easy to talk to; how had Hesse managed to win them all over?
As they walked, they encountered nearly a dozen guards, around seven or eight in total.
Hesse shrugged.
He had a tall stature, broad shoulders; although not as muscular as some of the bulky inmates, he had a lean, athletic physique.
His green eyes reflected a slight bluish light under the illumination, darker in tone, resembling the eyes of a beast.
His fiery red hair stood out, and the texture looked rather stiff, just like his demeanor, devoid of any softness.
Yet, this seemingly aggressive, cold Hesse patiently explained to Yan Chuan.
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