A Power Vacuum and Stirring Undercurrents

The iron door slammed shut with a deafening clang, completely shutting out Zheng Qi's violent figure and his hoarse threats. Cell 107 fell into a vacuum of deathly silence.

The thick stench of blood mingled with urine and the sour reek of fear, lingering in the cramped space. On the floor, Scar lay unconscious like a heap of mud, his nose caved in and his face covered in blood. Every so often, he twitched involuntarily. Iron Head was on his knees nearby, clawing desperately at his neck and making a terrifying rasp like a bellows. His purplish-red face was contorted with the excruciating pain of suffocation. Skinny Monkey lay slumped at the foot of the wall, clutching his smashed nose as blood seeped steadily between his fingers. He moaned and whimpered under his breath in broken gasps, with none of his earlier arrogance left.

The other prisoners had long since retreated to the farthest corner of the communal sleeping platform, huddling together with pale faces, scarcely daring to breathe. Like startled rabbits, they cast quick, terrified glances between the three fallen "former overlords" and the figure still curled up in the darkest corner.

Lin Feng.

He remained in the same position, head lowered and body curled up, as though the bloody storm just now had nothing to do with him. But he could clearly sense that, besides lingering fear, the furtive glances directed at him now held even more of something new: incredulous suspicion and scrutiny, along with a trace of indescribable awe.

No one spoke. Only pained groans and heavy breathing rose and fell.

That deathly silence was more suffocating than any of the insults and beatings before it.

After an unknown length of time-perhaps only a few minutes, perhaps as long as a century-hurried, disorderly footsteps and guards' shouts rang out in the corridor outside the cell again.

The iron door opened once more.

Several grim-faced guards rushed in. Seeing the carnage inside, they cursed.

"Fuck! 107 again! Get them out! Hurry up and get them out!" the lead guard ordered.

The guards came forward and roughly dragged the unconscious Scar and the nearly suffocated Iron Head out like dead dogs. Skinny Monkey was in slightly better shape, but two guards hauled him out of the cell by the arms as well. As he passed Lin Feng, he seemed about to look up, but in the end he only let out a pained whimper before being dragged through the door.

Clang!

The iron door closed for the third time.

This time, the cell seemed much emptier and much quieter. The smell of blood seemed to have faded a little, but the atmosphere of fear settled even more heavily.

The remaining prisoners still huddled in the corner, afraid to move or look at Lin Feng.

Lin Feng moved, slowly, extremely slowly. He raised his head. There was no expression on his face, and only the clotted wound at his temple stood out sharply. His gaze swept calmly across the cell and over the trembling prisoners.

Without exception, everyone his gaze passed over jerked their heads down or looked away in panic, their bodies growing even tenser.

An invisible yet real power had already begun to shift.

Lin Feng said nothing. He silently stood, walked to the sink, and washed the few specks of blood from his face and hands with cold water. Then he did something that made every prisoner's eyelids twitch wildly-he silently walked to the middle of the cell and sat down on the spot that had originally belonged to Scar, the driest, roomiest and best-positioned place on the sleeping platform.

No one spoke up to object.

No one even dared to look him in the eye.

He sat there with his eyes slightly closed, as if resting. But all his senses were focused on the link in his mind-at the other end, Zheng Qi was being escorted to solitary confinement. Through the link, Lin Feng could sense Zheng Qi's emotions: not anger or fear, but the calm of a completed mission, along with a trace of indifference toward the conditions in solitary.

Well done, Lin Feng sent the thought through the link. Wait for the next step.

A faint response came from Zheng Qi, indicating that he had received it.

Only after dealing with Zheng Qi did Lin Feng begin to carefully take in the changes in the cell.

Silence.

An unprecedented silence.

No more mockery, no more abuse, no more fists and feet that might come crashing down at any moment.

He could even hear the faint clamor from other cells in the distance, throwing the deathly silence of Cell 107 into sharper relief.

That silence gave his heart, repeatedly tormented by hatred and humiliation, a moment's respite, insignificant yet vital. He was still trapped behind bars, still burdened by a wrongful conviction, but at least, in this tiny space, he was safe for the time being.

He did not need to lord it over others like Scar. He only needed this undisturbed quiet, this precious space that let him think and wait for the next summoning.

Time passed in silence.

Recreation time arrived. The guards opened the door, and the prisoners filed out. Lin Feng walked last. In the past, he had to shrink into a corner and endure being shoved around and isolated. Today, when he reached the exercise yard, the prisoners ahead of him instinctively cleared a small space. No one approached him, and no one pointed at him anymore. They merely watched him cautiously out of the corners of their eyes.

Glad to be left in peace, Lin Feng found a corner and stood with his head lowered, seemingly just as before. But inwardly, his state of mind had already changed.

Mealtime. The food was as coarse as ever. But when the trays were passed in, no one dared snatch the portion that belonged to Lin Feng anymore. Even when the prisoner in charge of serving hesitated over the pitifully few slices of fatty meat and pickled vegetables, he put the slice that looked largest into Lin Feng's bowl, then glanced at him quickly.

Lin Feng said nothing. He silently took the bowl, squatted off to one side, and ate. It was still hard to swallow, but eating it was no longer accompanied by searing humiliation.

It was a subtle yet distinct change. Fear was the best keeper of order. In the bloodiest, most brutal way, Zheng Qi had established a new order in Cell 107, with Lin Feng at its invisible center.

The day passed in that atmosphere of extreme oppression and extreme "calm."

Night fell.

The lights in the cell went out. Darkness descended.

The other prisoners soon fell asleep, perhaps exhausted by the day's fright, perhaps afraid to stay awake in the dark. Snores gradually rose, though they seemed much quieter than before.

Lin Feng, however, did not sleep.

He was waiting.

As the clock quietly slipped past midnight, the cold mechanical notification sounded on time in the depths of his mind.

[Ding! Daily Deathsworn Summoning has refreshed.]

[Summon now?]

Summon. His thought was firm.

Streams of light churned. After yesterday's "critical hit," Lin Feng was much calmer, but still expectant.

The light gradually slowed and finally stopped.

[Ding! Summoning successful!]

[Deathsworn obtained: Qian Er]

[Identity: Fraudster (committed fraud under the guise of investment and financial management)]

[Range of activity: Currently in criminal detention, soon to be transferred to the detention center]

[Abilities: Silver-tongued, skilled at disguise, reading people and adjusting to the prevailing wind]

[Loyalty: 100%]

A fraudster? Qian Er?

Lin Feng paused slightly, then understood. Not every summoning could yield a sharp blade. Sometimes, he also needed some... special tools. A con man had his uses.

He immediately issued orders through the link to this new deathsworn, who was about to enter the cage:

Qian Er, you'll be sent to the detention center. Find a way into Cell 107.

Once inside, observe in secret and assist me. Act when necessary. Prioritize protecting yourself, gathering information and blending in.

Your task is to be my hidden eyes and hands.

The orders were sent. A clear, quick response came from the other end of the link, indicating that Qian Er had received and understood them. Unlike Zheng Qi's cold violence, it carried a smooth, obedient air.

The following afternoon.

At a similar time, a similar unlocking sound rang out.

"New arrival! Get in!" a guard shouted again.

A man in a brand-new prison uniform was pushed inside. He looked to be around forty, with somewhat thinning hair and an expression of obvious fear and ingratiation. With his neck hunched and eyes darting, he began bowing and scraping the moment he entered, apologizing repeatedly to the air: "Sorry, sorry. I'm new here and don't know the rules. Please be patient with me, big brothers, please be patient..."

He looked every inch the standard meek, good-natured punching bag. His acting was utterly natural.

The prisoners remaining in the cell raised their heads and gave him a lazy once-over. Seeing another spineless weakling who looked timid and posed no threat, they lost interest and looked away. They were still immersed in the fear Zheng Qi had caused and had no desire to pay attention to this new "coward."

The newcomer, Qian Er, stood timidly by the door, rubbing his hands. His gaze swept over the cell and finally settled on an empty spot in a corner, near Lin Feng but not directly beside him. Then he gave everyone another ingratiating smile before carefully shuffling over and curling up, doing his best to make himself inconspicuous.

In a moment when no one was paying attention, his eyes met Lin Feng's in a glance of utmost speed and secrecy.

There was no obvious exchange of emotion, but the link had already confirmed it.

Lin Feng lowered his eyelids slightly.

Another piece had fallen into place.

A savage blade deterred from without; guile lay hidden within.

Beneath the stagnant water of Cell 107, seemingly calm once more, the true undercurrents began to stir quietly. New rules were being rewritten in silence. And Lin Feng, seated at the eye of the storm, had finally gained a moment to breathe and... the means to lay his plans.

His gaze seemed to have already pierced the thick prison walls and fallen on the three women outside who had ruined everything he had.

The wait would not be long now.