Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

Zhang Wenjie stood up, twisted his neck, and his bones made a soft "crackling" sound.

After a sleepless night, he gained a preliminary understanding of the "golden finger" that had accompanied his rebirth.

Winning people over with virtue?

Rather, it's more accurate to say that they subdue people with force and suppress violence with violence.

At first, he thought it was some kind of task flow system, but it turned out to be just a "self-service" slacking-off system.

There are no mandatory tasks, no incessant prompts, and the main interface has only a morality point increment/decrement bar in the center, which is shockingly clean.

Last night, when the old man humiliated him by poking his chest with his finger, an uncontrollable surge of violent emotion instantly overwhelmed his reason.

He had only one thought at the time: If I could become a giant, strong man, I would definitely turn around and crush this old man to death!

The moment that thought crossed my mind, a system notification sounded, asking whether I wanted to consume morality points to perform "emergency state adaptation".

Out of curiosity, he silently murmured "yes".

Then, the mere 20 points on the morality panel (which the original owner probably accumulated somehow) were instantly wiped out.

Then, a tingling and numb sensation spread throughout my body, and my flesh swelled up like an inflating balloon, transforming into that giant tower of muscles.

After he "dealt with" the foul-mouthed old man, his morality points, which had been reset to zero, began to soar, eventually settling at 100.

Could it be that... the acquisition of morality points is related to "dealing with" those who are malicious or misbehave towards you?

And the more thorough the "processing," the more points you get?

As Zhang Wenjie was reflecting and speculating, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a strong force shoved his shoulder.

"Hey! I'm asking you a question!" The burly man's roar exploded in Zhang Wenjie's ears, his hot breath, thick with stench, spraying onto Zhang Wenjie's face.

The burly man's right hand gripped Zhang Wenjie's left shoulder like an iron clamp, his five fingers clenching tightly as if he wanted to crush his bones.

"I'm asking you, have you memorized what's on that piece of paper?! Huh?!" The burly man's face was very close, his fleshy face full of threat, and his other hand was already reaching for his lower back.

"Didn't your boss teach you not to put your arm around someone's shoulder when you talk?"

Zhang Wenjie slowly turned his head to the right, and a faint "click" sound came from his neck.

He didn't turn around completely, but only glanced back out of the corner of his eye. His gaze was cold and sharp, like a sharpened blade, precisely aimed at the arrogant, burly man behind him.

Stared at like that, Hua Liutian (the burly man's nickname) felt a chill run down his spine for no reason, but relying on his superior numbers and physique, that discomfort was instantly replaced by anger.

"Go to hell..."

The word "Mom" was still stuck in my throat.

Hua Liutian felt his right wrist, which was resting on the other person's shoulder, suddenly gripped by a hand like an iron clamp!

The force was astonishing; it felt as if the five fingers were about to dig into his bones!

Immediately afterwards, an irresistible force came, and his muscular body, weighing over two hundred pounds, was lifted off the ground!

My vision is spinning!

"Bang—crash!!!"

A muffled thud was mixed with the noise of a spring breaking and fabric tearing.

Hua Liutian felt his back slam heavily onto the broken sofa in the center of the room. The rotten wooden frame collapsed with a thud, and dust billowed up.

Before he could recover from the dizziness and pain of the impact, a shadow had already fallen upon him.

A foot wearing a worn-out sneaker, whistling through the air, stomped heavily on his chest!

"Ugh—!" The air in her lungs was violently squeezed out, and Hanayada screamed in agony. Her vision went black, and a groan of unbearable strain came from her ribs.

Zhang Wenjie stepped on him with one foot, leaned slightly forward, his face expressionless, only his eyes coldly looking down at him as if he were a pile of mud.

"My name is Zhang Wenjie." His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly penetrated Hua Liutian's ears, which were ringing with pain. "If you like, you can call me Brother Jie."

The force applied to his foot increased even more.

"I don't like it..." Zhang Wenjie twitched the corner of his mouth, revealing a cold smile, "You still have to call me Brother Jie."

"Did you understand?"

"Scream!" Before the words were even finished, the foot that was pressing on his chest lifted up and then stomped down again!

"Bang!"

"Go ahead and yell if you want!"

Another kick!

"Bang! Bang!"

A mocking yet cold voice accompanied each heavy stomp.

Hua Liutian felt as if his internal organs had shifted, and the excruciating pain overwhelmed all his thoughts. He could only open his mouth in vain like a fish out of water, making hoarse gasps, and even his screams became intermittent.

Meanwhile, in the corner of Zhang Wenjie's retina, the rudimentary system interface was undergoing changes.

The number following "Current Moral Points" is slowly but steadily increasing with each step he takes: 102…103…105…108…

When the number jumped to 108, no matter how hard he tried, the number wouldn't budge.

"Damn it!" Zhang Wenjie spat and finally withdrew his right foot.

It seems that no more "morality" can be squeezed out of this "spineless" person who has been completely conquered by fear and has lost the will to resist.

He bent down and naturally pulled a pack of cigarettes, which was slightly deformed from the pocket of Hua Liutian's tight black vest.

He flicked out a cigarette, lit it with the lighter that Hanayada had dropped on the ground, and took a deep drag.

"Is he dead or not?" He exhaled a smoke ring and kicked Hua Liutian, who was sprawled on the ruins of the broken sofa like a dead dog, tears streaming down his face. "If you're not dead, get up quickly. I'm in a hurry to go to jail."

"Jie, Brother Jie... don't kick me, don't kick me anymore!" Hua Liutian was no longer the fierce man he had been just moments before; the intense pain and fear completely shattered his bravado.

He endured the burning pain in his chest and abdomen, struggling to his feet from the wreckage of the sofa. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, blood still trickling from his lips. "Cough...cough cough...Brother Jie, this way! This way!"

He clutched his chest, his body hunched over, and walked unsteadily to the door. He respectfully opened the door, bowing and scraping as he gestured for Zhang Wenjie to go first.

As soon as the door opened, a strong, pungent fishy smell mixed with a damp, musty odor hit the door.

Zhang Wenjie narrowed his eyes and walked out of the room.

Outside was a dark and narrow corridor, with old newspapers pasted on the walls, their original color long since obscured, and the floor damp and sticky.

The corridor is lined with similar dilapidated wooden doors, some tightly closed and some ajar, from which the sounds of mahjong, children crying, and men and women arguing can be heard.

This is clearly a corner of Kowloon Walled City or a similar low-class residential area, a melting pot of all sorts of people with a high turnover of people. The disappearance of a few marginalized individuals like "Fen Youming" would indeed be hard to notice.

Zhang Wenjie looked around and understood.

He turned around and glanced meaningfully at the room he had just left, especially in the direction of the toilet, a cold, almost imperceptible smile curving his lips.