"The people getting close to the wall have increased lately!"
Hearing the disguised cries of distress near him, Feng Xue continued flipping through the dictionary as if he heard nothing, and murmured in the sa language,
"How are the prison guards behaving?"
His speech was very slow, and he repeated the sa sentence several tis until a similar howl emitted from the cell next to his. Only then did he stop.
"The guards are just herding people, but it’s useless!"
Another pained cry rang out, and Feng Xue imdiately understood the situation. Pretending to read his book, he spoke in a different language,
"The opportunity is almost here, everyone get ready. Tonight at the earliest, the day after tomorrow at the latest."
Expressing the sa idea, Feng Xue switched through more than twenty languages, each ti speaking very slowly. It took a full hour before the repeater in the next cell accurately relayed every sentence.
In fact, Feng Xue had not linked up all the prisoners in the prison, because he could only speak the languages he had heard or seen. In other words, if a prisoner had not made a sound after entering, he would not be able to communicate with them.
But this was clearly a minority case, and it didn’t matter if they did not participate.
What about those unprepared when the ti to escape ca?
Well, it was the sa old saying: they weren’t close.
What Feng Xue was doing at the mont was far more than simply using the sound tube in the cell next to his to communicate with the prisoners; although he appeared to be sitting on his cot with knees hugged to his chest, in reality, one of his legs was thrust through the cot, continuously moving in the shadow-shrouded area underneath.
Had it not been for the "assassin" label he received earlier, which guided his assassin training, he wouldn’t have been able to demonstrate such flexibility.
As for the shackles...
They had been cut through long ago. The towels, which seed to prevent ankle chafing, had unknowingly beco the rope linking the broken shackles together.
That was also why his movents getting up, stepping down, or collecting food had been so graceful lately. It wasn’t because he was crafting a graceful persona but because he feared that excessive movents might break the shackles.
It was fortunate that he had changed into his clothes before cutting the shackles; otherwise, he would have had more problems than just wearing prison shoes—he wouldn’t dare to change his pants.
Judging that the ti was almost right, he slowly pretended to adjust his body after sitting for a long ti and gently pulled his leg out from the hole in the cot. He then took a round disk that had been pressing under him and placed it on top, sealing the hole perfectly.
The cutting of the disk was not exactly regular, but its shape roughly resembled a truncated cone, narrow at the bottom and wider on top, so there was no worry of it falling through.
After "restoring" the cot to wholeness, Feng Xue curled up his left leg again and took down the item from his own tiptoe that had made him modify his plans—
Na: Phantom Object: Shawshank’s Spoon
Elents: [Prison], [Tableware], [Digging], [Hidden], [Sharp], [Durable], [Tool]
Description: An ordinary-looking spoon that, in a prison environnt, allows passive sensing of the surroundings within a hundred ters as the center, with "escape" as the goal. In excavations intended for escape, this item possesses unparalleled sharpness and durability. The results of digging with it will have a concealing effect, making it very difficult to detect with conventional thods before the escape.
Note: Is there a chance that the person escaping is nad Andy and the tool used for digging is a hamr?
...
Late at night, having finally dealt with a second visit from his elder brother, Jeston returned to his bedroom and lay exhausted on his bed, pondering his next moves.
He was well aware of the influx of bugs in the prison, but he also knew that even if he dealt with this batch, more would inevitably find their way in.
After all, he was the one running the prison, and he had ways to cram more people inside.
"Should I hand over Han ii to the old man?" Jeston bit his nails, feeling sowhat resentful at the thought, although he knew that giving her to his father would definitely net him a substantial reward. There was no room for negotiation on matters like inheritance, but money was for sure not off the table.
Yet Jeston still couldn’t help feeling reluctant.
However, with his wits, he couldn’t figure out how, under the watchful eyes of these hyenas, to protect his precious money printer—in fact, when it ca to strength, he was the lone hyena, and the ones eyeing his wealth were a pride of lions.
Perhaps due to the ntal exhaustion of all the thinking, Jeston soon felt drowsiness creeping up on him, but just as his eyelids were finally about to close, a piercing boom suddenly erupted, followed by a strong shaking sensation right by his ear!
"Boom!"
Feeling the room tremble ever so slightly, Jeston leaped out of bed instinctively, grabbing the handgun from under his pillow. In less than ten seconds, three ard bodyguards rushed in, surrounding him to ensure his safety, and only then did he have the chance to grab his phone and make a call:
"Boss?" Mixed with the noise and the sound of explosions, a voice ca through the phone’s receiver. Jeston didn’t hesitate and imdiately asked,
"What the hell happened?"
"Boss, the prisoners from the North Third District have escaped!"
"Escaped?" Jeston jolted at the word but relaxed a bit upon realizing it was the North Third District. He quickly asked,
"What about the East Second District?"
"There are no issues there yet, but the way this wall collapsed is suspicious! They might’ve hidden explosives in the [Beep]! What are those guys responsible for the inspections even doing? Boss, you should’ve hired a bunch of gays for the body checks!" The voice on the other end sounded quite annoyed, but Jeston impatiently retorted,
"I don’t care how they’ve escaped, nor do I care if they can get away. You just make sure you keep an eye on the East Second District. I don’t give a damn about the rest, if the East Second District has any trouble, I’ll be shoving a bomb up your [Beep] first, then send a couple of gays to do your body check!"
After saying his piece, Jeston hung up the phone and dialed again,
"Hello, boss, what’s up so late at night?"
A lazy, rough male voice ca through the receiver. Jeston had no ti for small talk and went straight to the point,
"Kalomi, there’s a prison break happening."
"Boss, are you telling to bring people back for support?" The voice on the other end suddenly beca alert; Jeston could almost picture the man jumping out of bed.
Jeston, however, said sternly,
"No, what I an is, you keep an eye on that door!"
"Oh?" Kalomi’s eyes lit up, sensing sothing, and Jeston’s explanation followed,
"I suspect soone’s pulling strings behind the scenes. They might soon be targeting those treasures. The prison has Jones, that’s enough, but if anything unexpected happens, I’ll just let everyone go. They’ll definitely co back to that door, and then it’s your job to stop them! Especially Han ii, the black-haired Asian woman from the video you sent , stuffing things into a box—you catch her alive, got it?!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)