I bought a prison in the United States.

Judge Hammond's trials at McLean County Court were known for their efficiency and authority.

Lawyers secretly called him "the gavel machine" because his gavel fell faster and louder than any judge's.

When one of the defendants broke down in tears upon hearing the verdict, Hammond had already put away his gavel and pushed open the door behind the judge's bench without even turning back.

But Margaret had never seen Hammond like this before.

Feeling dejected and powerless, I felt like a stone statue had collapsed.

Only at that moment did she realize that this man, who had always believed he controlled all the rules, had finally discovered that the rules he relied on were not solely determined by him.

Margaret slowly withdrew her hand from the doorknob and silently retreated to her workstation.

The court schedule was still laid out on the table; there were three cases that needed to be signed that afternoon.

But Margaret suddenly felt that these documents could wait a while; it seemed that she was about to judge the judge.

Late at night, Hammond's study phone rang repeatedly.

The first call came in from the county fire chief, Donald, his voice deep, with the faint sound of a television in the background.

He was clearly hiding at home, afraid his family would hear the conversation; his tone was full of anxiety.

"Robert, something's happened!"

"Today, four media outlets contacted me for interviews, including a reporter from a newspaper in Oklahoma City who drove all the way here to cover this."

"My secretary turned them all away, but it's clear they'll be back tomorrow."

"The report clearly stated the numbers of the three rectification notices. Although it didn't name names, the document numbers are publicly available and traceable; a simple search would lead back to us!"

His tone carried a hint of resentment and lingering fear:

"I gave you face back then and went through with this formality."

"But now, this loss of face is putting me on the hot seat!"

"If this continues, I'll lose both my reputation and my job. What do you suggest we do?"

Before he could finish speaking, another line rang simultaneously, and the urgent voice of County Health Director Porter squeezed in:

"Robert, it's exploded here too!"

"In the afternoon, my subordinate secretly prepared a retest report, deliberately changing the date forward by three days, in an attempt to cover up the loopholes in the freezer rectification."

"But think about it, things are so tense right now. If the reporters uncover this supplementary report and accuse us of fabrication, our troubles will only get bigger!"

"Don't worry, I'll figure something out."

Hammond took a deep breath, hung up both phone calls, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes to concentrate.

The night outside the window was quiet, and the warm yellow light from the neighbor's porch shone through the maple branches onto the garage door across the street. Everything seemed peaceful and normal.

But he knew in his heart that the spread of this report had exceeded his original expectations.

Underwood kept his word.

A positive feature article, seemingly praising the prison, actually planted a media bomb that would detonate a media frenzy throughout the county's power structure.

The fuse was already lit, and he was helpless, unable to extinguish the fire!

After calming down a bit, he dialed Hart's private number.

The moment the call connected, Hart's suppressed rage exploded through the receiver:

"Hamond, I was questioned by Parliament this afternoon!"

"The purchasing committee's accounts for three quarters were thoroughly examined, and a group of councilors took turns interrogating me about why the purchase of prison door locks bypassed security approval!"

"I explained to them that it was a routine procedural oversight, but nobody believed me!"

"And then there's this newly elected Black congressman who publicly implied that I had a conflict of interest with Bayless Building Materials regarding their marble procurement project!"

"They never cared about the procurement committee before, but now, at the slightest hint of trouble, they've all turned into bloodthirsty sharks, relentlessly attacking!"

Hart's voice was strained, filled with uncontrollable anxiety:

"Tell me, how did your people manage to create such a basic flaw—three rectification notices issued on the same day, with consecutive numbers? Were they deliberately providing material for reporters?"

Hammond listened quietly to the other party's outburst of anger, and understood what was going on.

Hart, who had spent eight years navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom, was always calm, composed, and unperturbed.

Their loss of composure today stemmed not only from anger but also from fear; these lower-level officials are most afraid of things escalating.

Once an investigation begins, it will create a chain reaction, and everyone in the entire network will be suspected.

"Leonard, calm down, friend."

Hammond's voice was unusually calm, maintaining the composure expected of someone who had held a high position for many years, as he patiently spoke:

"You are my most important partner, I won't let anything happen to you."

"All special inspections are to be halted immediately. The rectification notices will be withdrawn on Monday, and the official documents must be delivered to the prison by Tuesday."

"Continuing to apply pressure now will only give the media more ammunition, which is counterproductive."

"First, suppress the public outcry. Once the storm has cooled down, we'll have plenty of time to sort things out."

"That Chinese prison warden can't rely on newspaper opinions to protect himself forever."

After calming Hart down, Hammond then dialed Baylors's number.

The moment the call connected, Baylors' urgent voice came through the line:

"Robert, something's happened! The customs declaration copies for that batch of marble panels from Mexico have been stolen!"

"This afternoon, a man claiming to be a researcher at the University of Tulsa Law School took documents from the county government archives with a request form."

"Afterwards, I checked and found that guy's name was fake; there's no such person at the school!"

Hammond's gaze darkened:

"That person is probably a private investigator. I heard that Chen got to know a detective named Parker through Ray Carson."

"Who is that?"

"Parker used to be a detective with the Tulsa Police Department. After leaving the police force, he worked independently for many years, specializing in commercial investigations. He was extremely skilled in this area."

"But besides the detectives, there must be someone else involved who could launch a counterattack against so many of us at the same time."

"It's most likely Eleanor, the lawyer by his side. That woman's connections and methods are far more impressive than I anticipated."

"I don't care who hired him, once this copy of the customs declaration is made public..."

Bellus's voice was somber.

"I am aware of the consequences."

Hammond's composure, honed by experience, once again prevailed over panic:

"Don't do anything right now, and absolutely don't move around."

"Chen only has copies. If he wants to substantiate the issues, he must verify the audited accounts, which requires time and proper authorization. He can't cause any major trouble in the short term."

"What you should do most right now is to keep quiet completely!"

"Cut off all suspicious supply channels, seal off existing inventory, and leave no installed panels untouched."

"Demolishing and destroying it now would be like trying to hide something obvious, raising suspicion."

After giving his instructions, Hammond gently put down the receiver.

Outside the window, the first snow of the season quietly arrived in Tulsa.

The snow came exceptionally early in November. Fine snowflakes fell softly, landing on the bare branches of the maple trees, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving patches of dark water stains.

"Click!"

Hammond put the gavel in the drawer, the slide closing with a cold metallic clang.