northernbook Chapter 174 The Intimidation from the "Red Dragon"
Chapter 174 The Intimidation from the "Red Dragon"
Wasim's right hand slowly moved toward the pistol at his waist.
This action caused the surrounding prisoners' eyes to suddenly light up with excitement, as if they had smelled a shark catching a whiff of blood.
"Oh?" Number 207's smile twisted and widened. He even leaned forward and pointed his index finger, which had a black nail, at his brow.
"Want to shoot? Come on, shoot here!"
His voice suddenly rose, filled with a manic provocation, "Shoot! If you don't, you're my grandson!"
The entire cafeteria fell silent, and all the strange gazes were focused on Wasim's hands.
Wasim's fingers lingered on the holster for two seconds.
Then, amidst the increasingly maniacal laughter of Number 207, he removed his hand.
"See!" Number 207 yelled at his comrades, arms outstretched, "He wouldn't dare! These uniformed cowards would never—"
His words came to an abrupt end.
Because Vassim's left hand had silently pulled something out of his pocket—a dark red sanitary napkin.
With a flick of his wrist, Wasim smeared the slightly damp and sticky substance firmly onto Number 207's face!
"Ugh—!!!"
A piercing scream burst from Number 207's throat!
He retreated frantically as if he had been doused with concentrated sulfuric acid, scratching wildly at his face, trying to tear the thing off. But when his fingertips touched the fabric, he trembled and screamed even more violently.
"A red dragon! It's a red dragon!!" His voice was distorted and filled with disbelief and horror. "How dare you... bring something like this in!!"
Vassim moved swiftly, ripping the red dragon off number 207's face—the brief contact just now was considered a small lesson for him.
However, even this brief contact had a very noticeable effect:
The skin on the cheek of the person in the photo, number 207, is now rapidly turning an unnatural bluish-gray, as if it has been burned or contaminated, and it is emitting a faint burnt smell.
He stumbled and bumped into the stool behind him, then sat down awkwardly in a chair, frantically wiping his face with his sleeve. His eyes were filled with resentment as he looked at Wasim, but even deeper was a fear that almost materialized.
Vassim stood still, his right hand still hanging at his side, while his left hand put the red dragon back into his pocket.
"Still want to complain?" His voice wasn't loud, but it pierced the deathly silence of the cafeteria like an icicle. "Or, do you still want to be someone's grandfather?"
Prisoner number 207 made a gurgling sound in his throat. He dared not look at Wasim again, only squeezing out broken syllables through clenched teeth:
"Who wants to... be your human grandfather..."
After he finished speaking, he lowered his head, silently picked up his spoon, and mechanically continued to scoop food from his plate, continuing to eat his lunch.
The entire cafeteria was shrouded in a depressing silence.
Everywhere you look, those strange prisoners who were originally restless now show signs of human-like fear.
Several pairs of compound eyes, gleaming with an ominous light, quickly looked away, not daring to meet Vassim's gaze.
In the corner, a creature with contorted limbs, poised to cause trouble, silently withdrew its protruding tentacles back into the shadows, its body's mimicry colors becoming mottled and disordered due to tension.
A deep sense of dread permeated the air, a fear of the "Red Dragon's" power and Vassim's decisiveness.
In the cafeteria, only the monotonous scraping sound of spoons scraping against plates remained.
Vassim then turned to Mikhail, whose face was still pale: "Continue patrolling. Don't look away, keep a normal pace."
........................
12 points.
Lin Feng knocked on Leng Meng's dormitory door, and a cold voice quickly came from inside: "Come in."
Pushing open the door, Leng Meng was sitting on a wooden chair by the window, having shed the dignified demeanor of the deputy warden. Her black casual clothes accentuated her sleek figure, and her long hair was loosely tied back, revealing her slender, fair neck.
A steaming cup of tea was already laid out on the table. The tea soup was amber in color and it was a rare pre-Qingming Longjing tea, which was obviously prepared by Leng Meng.
"Have a seat." Leng Meng pointed to the stool opposite her, her tone slightly gentler than usual.
Lin Feng thanked him, sat down, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and found the tea to be mellow and fragrant.
He put down his teacup, not asking the usual patrol questions, but leaning forward slightly, his face showing a mixture of confusion and unease, and lowered his voice:
"Deputy Warden, there's something I'm not sure if I should ask... I found a crumpled note under the leg of table number 13 in the mess hall. It looks like a hidden message that someone left there."
He paused, carefully observing Leng Meng's reaction, before slowly revealing the core message:
"It says... 'The blank space in cell number 0 is the cancer of this prison.' I don't understand why a cell would be described as 'cancer'?"
Leng Meng's fingertips, which had been steadily tapping the table, suddenly stopped.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her sharp gaze falling on his face like a scalpel.
"Lin Feng," her voice was icy and undeniably firm, "this issue is far beyond your current responsibilities and authority."
"This is not something you should care about, nor is it something you can understand."
"Forget that message. Curiosity, in this context, often means danger."
The warning is already very clear.
Lin Feng immediately put on a shocked and remorseful expression, and nodded hurriedly:
"Yes, I understand, Deputy Warden. I shouldn't have asked those questions."
He tactfully changed the subject, returning to a question a "qualified newcomer" should ask, his tone tinged with concern:
"Well... if I encounter an emergency during patrol, is there a way to contact you immediately? I'm worried that the situation might deteriorate too quickly..."
After a moment's hesitation, Leng Meng opened a drawer, took out a black walkie-talkie, and pushed it in front of Lin Feng.
"Here you go. It's a dedicated channel, directly connected to my office and my personal device."
"Use is strictly prohibited unless it is an emergency or a confirmed real threat."
"It has a high priority, and misuse will consume critical resources. You know the consequences."
She briefly explained how to turn it on and make a call, adding, "Remember, it's your last resort, not a convenient tool."
Lin Feng's eyes lit up. He picked up the walkie-talkie as if it were a priceless treasure, examined it carefully, and quickly put it in his pocket, his tone filled with gratitude:
"Thank you so much, Deputy Warden! With this, I feel much more at ease."
At this point, Lin Feng abruptly changed the subject, as if he had suddenly remembered something:
"Oh right, last time I treated the bug in your right ear, I realized I hadn't checked your left ear yet."
"You're usually too busy with work to take care of these things. But since you have some time today, let me clean both your ears for you so you can feel more refreshed afterward."
Leng Meng was taken aback upon hearing this, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes. She instinctively wanted to decline—
But remembering the tingling, pleasant sensation during my last ear cleaning, the words of refusal that were on the tip of my tongue turned out to be:
"Okay, thank you for your help."