I bought a prison in the United States.

Lingo used prisoners as a publicity stunt, and that feature cover photo was really well taken; the prisoners were smiling like a group of auto workers who had just received their quarterly bonuses.

These smiles were nurtured by his own hands.

Labor in exchange for preferential treatment?

They were all tools he designed to win people over!

But every tool has its weaknesses.

Hammond smirked.

A person's loyalty can be bought with points, or it can be bought with a bigger reward.

For example, points can be exchanged for an extra visit or a priority job, but points cannot be exchanged for a parole recommendation letter.

There is only one place that can issue a parole recommendation letter.

Judge's office!

Hammond picked up the phone and expertly dialed a number.

The call went directly to the landline of the Tulsa County Courthouse Bailiffs' Office.

Underwood had told Ringo that Hammond's sphere of influence was limited to McLean County, and he was right.

But that doesn't mean he lost his intelligence and connections once he left the county.

"Judge Hammond? What brings you here on the phone?"

The man who answered the phone was named Collins. He had been a marshal for over a decade and had previously worked in McLean County.

His days were so monotonous that he could see the end of his life before him, day after day escorting defendants in and out of the courtroom, standing in the noisy corridors calling out case numbers.

Occasionally, they have to step forward and ask family members who are out of control and making a scene during the court hearing to leave the audience.

Eleven years have passed, and things haven't improved at all.

His starting salary when he entered the industry was 16,000 yuan, and now he only earns 19,000 yuan a year. His salary increase can't even keep up with the tail end of inflation.

The family has two children in middle school, which requires money everywhere. The wife works as a cashier in a supermarket, earning a meager salary.

Last month, the gearbox of our old Dodge broke down completely. We were short of money and couldn't afford to fix it, so it just sat in the garage.

Eight years ago, when Collins was still in McLean County, he owed Hammond a favor.

At the time, he was escorting a suspect involved in organized crime, and there was a significant error in the procedure. If it were reported, he could be given a demerit at best, or even lose his job at worst.

After the trial, Hammond suppressed the whole affair, thus saving him from further trouble.

"Collins, how have you been lately? Busy?"

Hammond's voice was gentle, revealing no ulterior motive whatsoever.

Collins was somewhat surprised, but still said politely:

"Same as always, Judge, though things have been a bit quieter these past few days."

After exchanging pleasantries for a few minutes, Hammond finally got to the point:

"...Collins, it's like this, I have a small favor to ask you."

"There's an inmate at McLean Correctional Center named Felix Montes who's currently helping the warden with the prison's surveillance system."

"This person was sentenced by the Tulsa County Court two years ago, so you must have a way to contact him."

Collins on the other end of the phone frowned slightly, but patiently listened as Hammond continued:

"Please pass on a message to him: no matter how well he behaves in prison, he won't get a recommendation letter from the parole board..."

Collins instantly understood.

The whole city has been talking about how Judge Hammond is going up against McLean's private prison.

As a low-level bailiff with elderly parents and young children to support, earning a meager fixed salary, he was most reluctant to get involved in the power struggles at the top.

Getting involved in this mess will only bring trouble.

He thought for a moment, then cautiously asked:

"Judge, I have a question... Is this a risky matter? You know I don't want to get involved in this kind of thing."

Hammond tried his best to dispel his concerns:

"Don't worry, all you need to do is make a phone call for me and say a few words."

"Without recordings or written agreements, you just said it and left, so no one can trace it back to you."

"The rest of the choices are up to Montes himself."

"He's in the tech team. He can mess up minor issues, and if something goes wrong, even if he's accused, you can deny it to the death."

"Once this matter is settled, I will write a letter of recommendation for parole, which you can then give to him privately."

"No one would doubt that a bailiff is passing on a message. You guys are always handling matters related to prisoner trials, so it's perfectly reasonable."

"You'll get your share of the benefits once things are settled."

A long silence fell on the other end of the phone.

After a long silence, Collins' voice rang out again:

"Okay, I'll make this call for you."

……

Meanwhile, McLean County Correctional Center.

The storage room of the technology research and development team was brightly lit; it was the only room in the entire building that was still lit.

Montes sat at the workbench, holding a soldering iron in his right hand and solder wire in his left, concentrating on finishing the solder joints of the gimbal drive circuit.

His skills are recognized as top-notch in the group; his solder joints are full and rounded, and his solder flow is even and smooth, without a single flaw.

Even the notoriously picky Morris himself said that Montes' hands were born to work with circuits.

Montes spat after hearing this, saying that he would not have done this job if he hadn't been forced to by the warden.

However, there are some advantages to working here.

Having been imprisoned for nearly two years, this is the place that most resembles the life of a normal person among all the prisons he has ever been in.

Here, he doesn't need to be in a gang or fight to protect himself; he can reclaim the craft he used to make a living.

Craig would hand over the core blueprints to him for soldering, and Morris would patiently discuss circuit optimization with him.

Even Omar, who is known for his sharp tongue and never praises anyone, would glance at him a couple of times and nod in approval when passing by his workstation.

But this level of stability is far from enough.

He served almost two years in prison, and both of his parole applications were rejected.

He could guess the reason: he had no parents, no relatives or friends were willing to vouch for him, and he had no social support whatsoever.

The parole board believed that he lacked external guarantees and that his rehabilitation was not credible enough.

For that tiny glimmer of hope of getting out of prison, he could only desperately accumulate rehabilitation points, swallowing his pride and daring not to make the slightest mistake.

"jingle!"

Just as he was welding a notch with the welding torch, amidst the sparks flying, the old-fashioned black landline phone on the wall suddenly rang.

Montes assumed it was Craig calling from the factory asking him to deliver parts, so he put down the soldering iron and casually answered the call.

But unexpectedly, a deep male voice came from the other end of the phone, with the last syllable barely audible:

"Are you Felix Montes?"

"It's me, who are you?"

Montes frowned slightly; he vaguely remembered hearing that voice somewhere before.

The person on the other end of the phone clearly had no intention of introducing themselves, and simply said:

"Judge Hammond asked me to pass on a message to you."

"He has been watching your performance in the prison's technical team."

Montes was startled, and his expression instantly turned strange.

Why would a high-ranking county judge pay attention to a prisoner for no apparent reason?

It's definitely not that simple.

Why is the judge paying attention to me?

"Because he knows that you are wasting your talents in this lousy prison."

The other person spoke calmly, yet every word struck at his weak spot:

"You might as well think about it: you worked hard all night to help the warden set up the entire surveillance system."

"But what can he give you, a hundred or two points?"

"These things, at best, are just a little bit of sweetness in prison, not enough to get you parole."

"But Judge Hammond can."

"He is a serving judge in this county, and the parole board must carefully consider his handwritten letter of recommendation."

"If you want to get out of jail early and need legal bail, only he can help you."