He Won't Get Out

In the bathhouse.

Hua Gu and his men were all seasoned thugs, veterans at beating people and fighting dirty.

If Fierce Ghost had not warned Yau Kong Ngau beforehand, and they had truly caught him off guard, he would probably be lying on the floor by now.

Still, even though he was far more skilled than Hua Gu and the others, taking down all these old hands barehanded would not be easy.

Hua Gu had noticed Song Ren approaching long ago. His face darkened. "Where's A Lang?"

Song Ren said, "Lying outside."

Hua Gu spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm onto the floor and asked with a twisted expression, "You're helping this cop?"

Song Ren said, "I can give it a try."

Hua Gu suddenly laughed. "New guy, do you know how many people in Stanley Prison were put in here by them?"

By the end, his gaze had turned ice-cold. He enunciated every word. "Helping him means going against the entire prison."

"Hey, are you fucking looking to die?!"

Song Ren fell silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head. He smiled with utter sincerity and said clearly, "I'm asking for death."

The calmness in those eyes made Hua Gu's skin crawl, but he quickly came to his senses and cursed furiously, "Fuck you! I'll grant your wish!"

He charged at Song Ren in long strides, slipping a hand into the towel around his waist. When he closed in, he suddenly pulled a sharpened screwdriver from beneath it.

He drove it straight at Song Ren's stomach without holding back, every bit as vicious as he looked.

Song Ren shifted half a step back to avoid it, grabbed the back of his charging opponent's head, and yanked him in. At the same time, his right knee shot up high.

Bang!

Hua Gu's nose met his knee at point-blank range.

Blood sprayed out on the spot, and Hua Gu's face was instantly covered in tears and snot.

He staggered back a step, raising a hand weakly to shield his face. Just as he was about to howl in pain, a chopping hand that followed immediately struck his throat.

His breath caught at once. He dropped to his knees and began dry-heaving violently.

The sharp screwdriver fell limply to the floor as well.

Song Ren calmly picked up the screwdriver.

Hua Gu caught sight of it from the corner of his eye and immediately reached out to snatch it back, rasping, "Give it... cough... give it back!"

Song Ren skillfully tossed the screwdriver in his hand. Then, when Hua Gu's hand was halfway there, he gripped the handle in reverse, swung his arm, and drove the screwdriver hard through Hua Gu's palm.

Bright red blood dripped down the screwdriver, drop by drop.

After a brief silence, nearly everyone watching instinctively took a step back. They stared at Song Ren as if he were a monster, unable to conceal the fear in their eyes.

Song Ren said, "Gave it back to you. Hold on to it."

Then, as Hua Gu tried to scream in agony, Song Ren swung a kick that smashed his head into the wall, knocking him unconscious on the spot.

The other prisoners, including Hua Gu's gang, were all dumbfounded.

From the moment Song Ren made his move until it ended, everything had been far too swift and decisive—and far too ruthless.

Even they, who were used to seeing blood, found the sight chilling.

Once Hua Gu's brothers recovered, they hesitated only briefly before refusing to back down. Instead, they roared and swarmed Song Ren together.

What followed was Song Ren and Yau Kong Ngau's show.

With Hua Gu—the fiercest and most cunning one—out of the picture, and Song Ren helping out, the remaining bunch of nobodies were all taken down in less than a minute.

Only then did the guards on duty notice that something had happened inside the bathhouse.

The alarm soon began blaring nonstop.

A large squad of prison guards rushed in, carrying batons and riot shields. The one in front had even raised a pistol and chambered a round.

"Everyone, get to the side and squat down! Hands on your heads!"

"Everyone, get to the side and squat down! Hands on your heads!"

"Everyone, get to the side and squat down! Hands on your heads!"

One stern warning after another echoed through the bathhouse, mixed with several low groans of pain.

Song Ren and Yau Kong Ngau squatted down with their hands on their heads.

Yau Kong Ngau grinned through his split, bloodied lip. "Brother Ren, thanks."

Song Ren said, "It's nothing. Those guys pissed me off too."

In truth, the reason Song Ren had been so ruthless this time was because he had realized something.

Holding back against Fat Dog and the others before seemed to have made people look down on him. Some people had their eyes on him now.

In Stanley Prison, acting timid and restrained was not a good thing.

Besides, he was undercover right now. If anything went wrong, he could always dump the blame on his superior.

In Sha Po Lang, Inspector Chan Kwok Chung and Wong Po of Zhong Yi Xin were mortal enemies. As long as Chan still needed him to get close to Wong Po, he would never let anything happen to him in prison.

After all, in the police stations around Western District, no one but him dared get close to Wong Po.

After the bathhouse incident, Inspector Chan Kwok Chung contacted him soon enough.

In an isolated ward in the prison infirmary.

Chan Kwok Chung arrived with his subordinate, Luk Koon Wah. After shutting the doors and windows,

Chan Kwok Chung's expression was grim, though he held back his anger without speaking.

Instead, the hot-tempered Luk Koon Wah lost his patience first and grabbed Song Ren by the collar. "Bastard, what the hell are you doing?!"

"When we first told you to go undercover with Wong Po, you kept making excuses."

"Now that we finally found you a chance to infiltrate Zhong Yi Xin and arranged for you to come here, it was so you could get close to the killer A Ji."

"But what did you do? You'd barely gotten in when you clashed with other prisoners and beat them up like that. One has a broken rib, and another has a concussion."

"Do you even want to keep doing this?!"

Song Ren brushed his hand away and sat on the infirmary bed. "Keeping my head down in Stanley Prison will only make the others look down on me."

"How else am I supposed to catch Wong Po's attention without showing some ability?"

Luk Koon Wah was still furious. "Fuck, but you didn't have to beat them up that badly! With them injured like that, it'll be hard for us to smooth this over."

Song Ren spread his hands. "You want me to work, but you don't want to clean up my mess."

"How can you expect everything to go so perfectly? I'm going to get close to Wong Po."

"When Wong Po goes mad, he's like a mad dog. You've suffered at his hands too."

Hearing that, Luk Koon Wah immediately flared up. "Kid, are you talking back to me?!"

Song Ren raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

Luk Koon Wah said, "You—"

Chan Kwok Chung said, "Brother Wah, enough."

He frowned at Song Ren. "I'll handle this matter for you this time. But if something like this happens again, let me know first, so I can be mentally prepared and make arrangements in advance."

Song Ren nodded. "All right."

Chan Kwok Chung watched him for a long while before nodding as well. "That's it, then. The killer A Ji will be released in a month. Make the most of your time."

Song Ren smiled. "It's fine. He won't get out."

Chan Kwok Chung abruptly looked up. "What do you mean?"

Song Ren said calmly, "I'll make sure he stays in the infirmary until I'm released."