Let's Work, Sir Gu

Fang Mo complained verbally, but his body was honest. As the ball of light representing the Iron Bones talent merged into his body, he felt a tingling, itchy, and swollen sensation throughout his bones again, as if countless ants were crawling in his marrow.

Then, a miraculous scene occurred.

His silver bones, which had already reached their limit, did not reject the second portion of Iron Bones talent. Instead, like a parched sponge absorbing water, they greedily devoured it completely.

Deep within the silver luster, extremely fine yet incredibly dazzling golden threads began to emerge.

"Hmm?"

Fang Mo's eyes shone brightly.

This wasn't a repetition at all; it was clearly a strengthening material!

"Since it can strengthen, then let's not waste it."

Fang Mo turned his gaze back to Gu Yichuan, who was in the cage, barely clinging to life.

This man was a scourge when he was alive, but a treasure trove after death. Now that he had been dealt with, according to the rules of the Record of Punishing Crimes, his soul would either dissipate or...

"Waste not, want not. Utilization is the foundation of environmental protection."

Fang Mo waved his hand, and an invisible force of rules descended.

Gu Yichuan's soul, which was about to dissipate, actually solidified again under the enhancement of this power. Not only that, but his tattered prison uniform also transformed into a jailer's uniform, black with red trim, and a large character for "卒" (zú - soldier/jailer) was printed on the chest.

However, his eyes became hollow and numb, only showing absolute submission from the depths of his soul when he looked at Fang Mo.

Gu Yichuan got up from the ground, his movements stiff but precise.

He walked up to Fang Mo, prostrated himself, and heavily kowtowed, his forehead hitting the dark red ground.

"Your subordinate, Gu Yichuan, greets my master."

Fang Mo nodded with satisfaction.

The number of prisoners in the Prison Suppressing Realm was increasing, and with only Wang Ergou, an unofficial staff member, it was indeed becoming too much to handle.

Now that Gu Yichuan, a professional, had joined, management would be much easier in the future.

After all, when it came to tormenting people, fabricating charges, and extracting confessions, this former Captain of the Punishment Department was an expert.

"Get up."

Fang Mo waved his hand, his tone as indifferent as heavenly law.

"From now on, you'll follow Ergou. Although his strength isn't as good as yours, here, seniority is the rule. He's the senior disciple, and you're the junior disciple."

"And also."

Fang Mo pointed to the souls of the six Punishment Department Captains still trembling in the adjacent cages.

"These are your former subordinates from when you were alive. You know them well. Go, entertain them properly. Don't let them think they're on their own down here."

Gu Yichuan did not hesitate.

He stood up, cupped his fists, and respectfully accepted the order: "Yes, my Lord. Your subordinate will make them understand what true... 'welcome home' feels like."

With that, he turned and walked towards the row of cages.

Wang Ergou, standing nearby, twitched his eyelids.

A ruthless man.

Gu Yichuan was ruthless when he was alive, and unexpectedly, he was even more ruthless to his own people as a ghost.

Fang Mo no longer paid attention to the workplace handover between the two new jailers.

His mind trembled as he sensed a slight fluctuation from the outside.

It was a warning sign that someone was approaching the prison.

"Time is almost up."

Fang Mo closed his eyes, and his figure slowly faded in the blood-colored space.

"I'll deal with the rest of you tonight."

The only thing left for the three monks was a meaningful, sinister grin.

Real world, Heavenly Prison, Room Bing Shen No. 7.

Fang Mo's eyes snapped open.

What greeted him was a scene of utter chaos.

Blood covered the floor, the walls were full of pits, and there were three corpses with tragic deaths.

He did not panic at all. With nimble movements, he dragged Yuan Tong, whom he had kicked away, back and arranged him in a cross-legged sitting position.

He then straightened Yuan Ji, whose throat had been pierced, and used his hand to cover the large hole in his neck.

Finally, he placed the old monk whose rear end had been blown out in the center.

After doing all this, he tidied his clothes, brushed off the non-existent dust from his sleeves, and put on a look of compassion for all living beings, tinged with a hint of regret.

Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.

Old Huang's slightly hunched figure appeared under the dim lamplight.

"Xiao Mo? Xiao Mo, are you still there?"

Old Huang's voice carried a hint of uncertainty and unease.

Block C, Room Shen prison was unnaturally quiet.

He had clearly heard fighting sounds from inside just moments ago, so why had it gone silent in the blink of an eye? Could something have happened to this kid?

Fang Mo turned around, met Old Huang's gaze, and called out loudly, "Uncle Huang! I'm here!"

Hearing the robust voice, Old Huang's anxious heart finally settled by half.

He walked over quickly, his old eyes scanning Fang Mo up and down. Seeing that the kid wasn't missing any limbs, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Scared me to death."

Old Huang patted his chest, still shaken.

"The brothers outside heard some commotion over here, and then it went quiet. I figured I'd come and check..."

Before he could finish.

Old Huang's gaze passed over Fang Mo's shoulder and took in the scene inside the cell.