Chapter 706 Three Days’ Time

A prison is a place where the law of the jungle is even more brutal than in the jungle itself. The criminals who live here are incredibly real.

Everyone who has been to prison will tell the people outside a truth: this place is not what people imagine.

Many people think… that serious offenders, especially murderers, should be respected in prison, but in fact, that’s not the case.

Unless you have a big gang behind you, or have very remarkable connections outside.

Otherwise, just being a serious offender, life in prison is even worse than that of an ordinary criminal.

People will bully these serious offenders, because they know that these people will not be able to get out in a short period of time, in twenty years, or even longer.

They are not afraid of retaliation, and will use various ways to provoke, humiliate, and even beat and injure the serious offenders.

This way they will have a lot of face—

You dare to kill people, but I dare to bully you!

This is also why many people in prison work out. They need to maintain a strong physique at all times, to bravely counter all provocations.

On the contrary, the members of the big gangs, even if they themselves are very weak, have a very high status in prison.

For example, the people of the Lance Family in prison. Some of them also work out, but most of them look like they have an ordinary physique, yet no one dares to provoke them.

Now that the Lance Family is so strong, if someone provokes them, they will definitely have a way to call outside. The gang outside, knowing that they have been bullied, will respond.

Then the gang, family, and friends of the person who provoked them might all suffer because of this.

Mr. Charles and these people did not belong to the kind of people with a background. They just had money.

In prison, having money is precisely the least deterrent.

A short guy with tattoos all over his face walked up to them. What was even more excessive was that he directly reached out and grabbed a handful of Mr. Charles.

Mr. Charles, who was used to a life of luxury, had managed his figure quite well. Although with his slightly older age, he had gradually developed some excess fat, which, to put it bluntly, was just adipose tissue.

This was much more elastic than the dry bodies of those little dogs!

Mr. Charles slapped the person’s hand away. He was now forcing himself to look tough. “What the fuck do you want to do?”

“I am Charles of Golden Port!”

This sentence made the short guy stunned for a moment. He hesitated and turned his head to look at the people he had come with. Those people shook their heads slightly. He then spat on the ground and turned back.

They had not heard of this name. They had to ask around.

Mr. Charles breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time, he was also a little worried, worried about how long he could still bluff these people.

The yard time was very free, but for these gentlemen, it was very torturous.

Mr. Charles walked to the side of the wire fence, looked at the prison guard who was less than half a meter away from him, and said, “I want to see the warden.”

The prison guard looked at him as if he were looking at a fool. Was the warden so easy to see?

Seeing that the prison guard did not react, he had to continue to add some conditions. “I am Charles, from Golden Port. I am very powerful outside. Help me pass a message to the warden. After I get out, I will give you a thousand dollars.”

The prison guard still looked at him with a disdainful look. “If you’re so powerful, how did you end up in here?”

Mr. Charles pursed his lips, wanting to curse, but he didn’t.

“There’s always someone better than you, right?”

“Listen, you can ask around. I am absolutely not lying. A thousand dollars, and no one will know about our deal.”

“Tell the warden I want to see him!”

The prison guard hesitated for a moment. “You have to give me something first, otherwise I can’t trust you.”

Mr. Charles thought for a moment and immediately gave him a number. “This is my home phone number, in Golden Port. After you get out, call this number and tell the person who answers, ‘The pigeon is on the ashtray,’ and then have him give you a thousand dollars.”

“Look, I’m right here now. If I lie to you, I will pay the price, right?”

The prison guard was skeptical. He hesitated for a moment. “Ten thousand dollars.”

“Done!” Mr. Charles agreed very decisively. Compared to his own safety, it was just ten thousand dollars!

The prison guard was suddenly a little annoyed. He felt that he had asked for too little, but the words had already been spoken. He could only hope that this clean-looking guy really had money.

As long as this business was done well, there would be no shortage of opportunities to get in touch in the future.

He tapped the wire fence and the steel bar frame with his baton a couple of times. “I will verify it. you’d better hope that that phone number works!”

As he spoke, he straightened his police cap and then left.

This made Mr. Charles breathe a sigh of relief. If he could see the warden, he would find a way to persuade him.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, the prison guard came back from another place with a somewhat unnatural expression. He glared at Mr. Charles with dissatisfaction. “The warden says he doesn’t want to see you. Although he doesn’t see you, I will still make the call.”

Mr. Charles was stunned on the spot. He looked at the prison guard. “Did he… say anything?”

The prison guard pursed his lips. “Twenty thousand.”

“Deal!”

“He said…”

“You fucking get out of my office. If you secretly contact those people again, I’ll twist your head off!”

The prison guard pursed his lips, and then, without waiting for Mr. Charles to say anything, he took the initiative to leave.

He wasn’t worried that the warden would really twist his head off. He just didn’t want to lose this job.

Being in charge of maintaining order during yard time was a lucrative job. The inmates could freely contact him, and he could help some inmates pass messages to the outside.

This was a hidden benefit for the prison guards. At least a few dozen, and at most a few hundred dollars of income came from here every month.

Mr. Charles watched the departing prison guard, cursed, and returned to sit with his small group. His face was so bad that the others didn’t dare to talk to him.

In the evening, they were arranged to have dinner with the others in the dining hall. In the past, they had always eaten alone.

When they were lining up, they were provoked, but they endured it, and it passed.

When Mr. Charles was carrying his tray and walking towards the table where his group was eating, someone suddenly stuck out a foot and tripped him.

Losing his balance in an instant, he fell heavily to the ground, and the food in his tray also spilled all over the floor.

He turned his head to look at the guy who had clearly stuck out his foot with an unfriendly look in his eyes. In their confrontation, he backed down, and this also made the surrounding inmates couldn’t help but laugh.

Backing down meant that he was a coward, which meant that they had new fun.

Today was their last good day.

After dinner, they were asked to return to their cells to rest, but this group of them stayed behind. “Your cells have been adjusted. Next, I will have someone take you to your new cells.”

Mr. Charles couldn’t help but say, “Why are our cells being adjusted?”

The prison guard glanced at him sideways. “The rules of the prison are just like this. They are adjusted every once in a while. Are you not satisfied?”

Someone was so agitated that they wanted to say something, but was stopped by Mr. Charles. He looked at the prison guard, his expression extremely ugly, but he said nothing.

Now he gradually realized that things were quickly getting out of control.

These were all Lance’s arrangements.

He would not yield!

He gritted his teeth and swore to himself.

He was assigned to a six-person cell. When he entered the cell with his quilt and other things, five pairs of eyes all looked at him.

At this moment, his legs began to tremble. He swallowed. With the iron door behind him slowly closing, and the sound of the prison guard’s footsteps gradually fading away, he bit the bullet and said, “We can talk.”

This was destined to be an uneasy night. In the middle of the night, someone in the prison block was being muffled and letting out low, mournful cries. The prison guard on duty was accustomed to these sounds.

At seven o’clock the next morning, the wake-up bell rang. Mr. Charles stood by his bed with a pale face, his body crooked.

He had to thank his old age and his loose muscles. Otherwise, there would definitely be some bloodstains on the bed now.

These sons of bitches. He had lived for half his life, and it had always been him who had fucked people. He had never expected to be fucked by someone this time, and by so many people!

Fuck!

His emotions were getting out of control. The prison guard inspected each cell, turning a blind eye to his plight.

Soon he was also asked to go to work. Now their work was to make leather magazine pouches for the army on the front lines.

The leather was all pre-cut. After it was sent over, they just needed to sew these pieces of leather together according to the regulations.

Each person had to make at least five hundred magazine pouches a day. If they couldn’t finish…

Mr. Charles was very focused when he was working. Although he was clumsy, at least he was working hard.

In the four hours of the morning, he had actually made more than eighty magazine pouches. Although there was still a long way to go to finish, at least this was a good start.

Just as it was about to be lunchtime, someone suddenly came and put the magazine pouches he had made into his own basket.

He was stunned for a moment, and then he reached out and grabbed the person. “Give me back my magazine pouches!”

But what the other party gave him back was a fist!

The inmates in the corner, whose material boxes were clearly overflowing with more than their quota, just watched these things numbly.

For those with status, they only had to make a dozen or twenty a day as a gesture. The rest of their quota would be distributed to those with a lower status.

Some inmates had to make more than a thousand a day to be considered to have finished their work.

This was never a fair place, nor could it be.

Mr. Charles, who had been severely beaten, was reprimanded for “brawling” and “sabotaging production,” and was also given two beatings.

Because of his poor performance, he had no lunch.

In the afternoon, he had worked very hard, but until before dinner, he had not done enough for his quota for the day.

According to the rules, he was not allowed to eat dinner.

In the evening, back in his cell, the uneasy, hair-raising gazes made his face pale.

At this moment, he seemed to be able to experience the pain and stubbornness in the eyes of those girls…

But in such a terrible way!

But fortunately, he would soon be able to see his lawyer.

(End of a Chapter)