Evil Thoughts and Shackles

Nights in cell 107 were never quiet.

Snores, grinding teeth, sleep talk, and the never-ending "drip, drip" of water in the corner wove together into a jarring prison nocturne. The stench filling the air seemed to have seeped into the walls and bedding, becoming inescapable, with nowhere to hide from it.

Lin Feng curled up on his freezing bunk. The thin blanket could do nothing to ward off the chill of the late night, much less give him any sense of security. Every part of his body screamed in pain-the dull ache in his back where Iron Head had slammed him against the wall, the bruises Skinny Monkey had twisted into his arm, and the weakness and soreness in his lower back from long-term hunger and scrubbing toilets.

But that physical pain was nothing compared to the slow slicing of his spirit, day after day.

The scenes from the day replayed uncontrollably in the dark.

Scar's mocking, malicious gaze, looking at him as though he were an insect that could be crushed underfoot at any moment.

Skinny Monkey's caustic taunts, every word like a poisoned needle.

Iron Head's hands, as big as palm-leaf fans, shoving and slamming him around, bringing him the humiliation of pure, overwhelming force.

And the others' gazes, whether indifferent or gloating, formed an invisible cage more suffocating than the iron door and barred windows.

"Hey, new guy," a prisoner sleeping on the bunk beside him mumbled in his sleep. He rolled over, his elbow "accidentally" jabbing hard into Lin Feng's ribs.

Lin Feng grunted, curling up in pain as he sucked in a sharp breath. The man noticed nothing and went on snoring.

This was not the first time. The so-called "accident" was just another form of bullying everyone silently understood.

Hatred.

Like boiling magma, it surged wildly in his chest, scorching his organs and threatening to burn him to ashes from the inside out. His teeth ground together, and the rusty taste of blood spread between his gums.

He had had enough!

He really had had enough!

Every day, he was ordered around like an animal and treated like garbage, his dignity utterly crushed and ground into the filthy earth! And those who had truly framed and ruined him might be enjoying flowers and applause on the outside, sleeping peacefully!

Why?!

A mad, dark thought suddenly slithered out from the deepest recesses of his mind like a venomous snake leaving its den, hissing seductively.

Death warriors!

He had death warriors on the outside!

Although they were only beggars, sanitation workers, delivery riders, and internet cafe attendants for now... they were absolutely loyal! With a single order from him, they could do anything!

For example... he could have one of them deliberately commit a crime. Steal something, beat someone up, or even... do something more serious? As long as they were caught, they might be sent to a detention center!

There was no guarantee they would be sent to this detention center, but... there was always a chance! What if they were?

As long as one death warrior who could fight got in and was sent to cell 107! Even the lowest-level violent offender, armed with absolute loyalty and a ruthless disregard for death, could definitely kill Scar and those other scumbags! At the very least, they could beat them until they no longer dared to bully him!

Once the thought appeared, it grew wildly, carrying a bloody exhilaration that nearly drowned out his reason. Imagining Scar beaten bloody by a death warrior, kneeling and begging for mercy, and Skinny Monkey scared out of his wits, an extreme, twisted excitement surged through his brain.

Do it!

That's what I'll do!

He clenched his fists, his breathing growing ragged and his eyes bloodshot. He was about to give Wang Wu or Zhang Zhiqiang an order through Mental Link-go commit a crime! Right now! Immediately!

Just as the order was about to burst out, his gaze happened to sweep across the cell's heavy, cold iron door. The little peephole in it was like an indifferent eye.

An icy chill suddenly washed over him, cooling his boiling blood in an instant.

No... that's not right.

Too risky! Utterly stupid!

First, he could not control what crime the death warrior would commit. Petty theft might only mean a few days in detention, but what if the plan backfired and someone was seriously injured or even killed? If the death warrior received a heavy sentence or even the death penalty, the first fighting force he had worked so hard to obtain would be completely wasted! And if the matter grew serious, it would inevitably prompt a deeper police investigation. What if they discovered something unusual...

Second, and most importantly, he had no control over which detention center the death warrior would be held in! There was more than one place of detention in this city. What if the death warrior was locked up in another detention center, or even sent straight to prison? Then his order would not only be meaningless; he would also lose a precious unit that could provide outside information every day! Gambling a piece that was definitely useful on an uncertain chance was like cutting off his own arm!

Third, even if... by some stroke of luck, the death warrior really was sent to this detention center, what if... they were not assigned to cell 107? There were so many cells in the detention center that the chances were too slim! Besides, newly arrived prisoners were usually kept under close watch. Striking back at once would be extremely difficult, and they could easily be discovered.

The risk was enormous, the payoff highly uncertain, and the cost potentially immense.

This was no revenge plan. It was the desperate, self-destructive impulse of a madman driven into a corner!

Lin Feng took a sharp breath of the cold, foul-smelling air and forced himself to calm down. A fine layer of cold sweat broke out on his back as fear gripped him at the mad thought he had just entertained.

He had nearly let a moment's humiliation and anger destroy the tiny advantage he had worked so hard to build-those eyes and ears who, humble as they were, were continually gathering information for him and keeping watch on his enemies!

I can't act on impulse!

I have to endure!

Fail to endure a small grievance, and the grand plan will be ruined!

His true enemies were Sun Tingting, Li Jing, and Zhang Qian! They were the ones who had pushed him into this abyss! Scar and the others were nothing but maggots in the abyss. Once he was able to climb out, crushing them would be as easy as turning his hand over! They were not worth exposing himself prematurely for, much less destroying his future path to revenge!

The targets of his hatred had to be clear! His plan for revenge had to be meticulous!

He slowly unclenched his fists, his body trembling slightly from lingering fear and the effort of suppressing his emotions. He buried his face deep in the musty bedding and panted silently, like a wounded beast licking its wounds and its surging killing intent alone.

Only after a long time did he slowly calm down.

At the other end of Mental Link, several death warriors remained in their respective positions, silently carrying out his earlier orders. Wang Wu was searching for his next shelter from the cold night wind, Liu Cuihua might already be resting, Zhang Zhiqiang had perhaps just finished delivering the last late-night order, and Zhao Xin was still on duty at the internet cafe...

They were the eyes he had extended into the world, the seeds he had planted.

He could not destroy those seeds with his own hands for a moment's satisfaction.

He needed more time, more death warriors, and higher-level identities! He needed power that could truly break this deadlock!

Until then, he had to endure every humiliation and every pain.

He forced the evil thought that had nearly overwhelmed his reason back into the darkest corner of his heart and bound it in layer upon layer of cold chains. It had not disappeared; it was settling, building up, waiting for the moment it finally erupted, when it would surely be fiercer and even more destructive.

The cell suddenly lit up for a moment as a guard's flashlight swept across the little window during a routine patrol of the corridor.

The light flashed past, and darkness returned.

Lin Feng lay with his eyes open in the dark. The mad agitation was gone from them, leaving only an almost ruthless calm and a deeper, more dangerous resolve.

He could not move the death warriors outside.

He would remember the grudge against those in the cell for now.

For the moment, he was still just a stubborn stone that had to endure everything in silence and wait for its chance.

He slowly closed his eyes, no longer listening to the irritating sounds. Instead, he immersed all his awareness once more in the faint link to the distant death warriors, drawing tiny scraps of information from the outside world as though drawing in the poison that kept him alive.

The night was still long.

The shackles were still heavy.

But his conviction to stay alive had grown clearer and more resilient because he had suppressed that mad impulse.

He had to live, had to endure, until... he drew the card that could overturn the table.