I bought a prison in the United States.

That evening, Ringo returned to the motel, where Betty was watching a TV program at the front desk.

In the program, a host dressed in an exaggerated suit is interviewing a rock singer with an afro, with deafening background music playing.

Lingo recognized the song: Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust".

"The way you're finding money is a bit dangerous, dear Chen."

Betty didn't even look up; her voice pierced through the television noise.

Lin Ge, who was about to go upstairs, stopped and turned around in surprise:

"You found out?"

"This is Tulsa, my dear. Everyone who has been to this hotel knows everyone."

Betty looked up at him, a helpless smile on her face:

"Ray Carson's money isn't money, it's a fishhook."

"If you take his bait now, he'll drag you to the bottom of the water."

"Ms. Betty, you know I don't have many options."

Lin Ge slowly walked down the stairs, a bitter smile on his face.

Until his credit score is restored, no one except Lei will be willing to lend him money.

This was only after he proved that his plan had some feasibility.

Even with Ray's funding, whether they can take down that prison remains to be seen.

If this plan fails, other options are riskier and take longer.

He couldn't afford to delay, so even with an annual interest rate of 25%, he had no right to refuse.

Betty sized him up for a while, her gaze not that of someone looking at a tenant:

"I've been in this industry for almost ten years and I've met quite a few people."

"Those who try to get fat in one bite end up with nothing but a skeleton."

Do you know why this hotel is called "Bluebird"?

Lin Ge shook his head.

"Because my ex-husband said, 'When the bluebirds are flying in the sky, our business will improve.'"

Betty smiled, a smile tinged with a bittersweet humor:

"It's a pity that the bluebird never flew."

She paused for a moment, then said something that Lin Ge didn't expect:

"But I feel you're very different; there's something about you that I can't quite describe."

"You're not the kind of person who'll stay here indefinitely. I could tell from the first day you moved in that you had a specific purpose in mind."

"You will leave, you will succeed, or you will die a terrible death."

"Um... thank you."

Lin Ge didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

"Don't thank me."

Betty shifted her gaze back to the television, saying nonchalantly:

"Pay back that money first, then replace the door with one that doesn't creak. The hinges in room number two have been rusted for three years."

……

The auction was held promptly at 10:00 AM on March 20th.

The location is in the basement of the McLean County Government Building, in a windowless room with only fluorescent lights.

The cement floor, the folding chairs, and the air filled with the smell of old paper and mildew.

There weren't many people, maybe a dozen or so.

Most of them were lawyers in suits and ranchers in cowboy boots, with a few middle-aged men who looked like speculators.

Ringo was wearing a dark blue suit he'd bought for four dollars from Goodwill thrift store, and a dark red tie with gold diamond patterns that Betty had lent him.

Although the style is a bit old-fashioned, it makes him look more presentable.

The auctioneer was a man nearing sixty, with a deep voice, like a pastor in a church using bidding instead of preaching.

"McLean County Correctional Center, starting bid $48,000."

"Each price increase is no less than one thousand US dollars."

"Any bids?"

Silence fell over the room.

Everyone knows the truth: in business, only those who can remain calm and patient can build a large business.

During this period of hesitation, people can roughly judge how many people care about this item.

About ten seconds later, Ringo raised his hand.

"Forty-eight thousand dollars, sir."

The auctioneer nodded to him.

Seeing someone break the silence, a fat man in a gray suit also raised his hand:

"Fifty thousand dollars."

Lin Ge's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm:

"Fifty-one thousand."

"Fifty-two thousand."

"That's what the fat guy said."

"Fifty-three thousand."

Lin Ge quickly gave his bottom line.

The fat man hesitated for a moment, then turned his head and whispered something to the person next to him.

Then he shook his head and put down the bidding paddle.

"Fifty-three thousand dollars for the first time."

The auctioneer's voice echoed in the empty basement.

Lin Ge's palms were sweating.

"The second time, $53,000."

His hands were trembling; the $53,000 in cash Ray had lent him was in a manila envelope.

If the price increases by more than $53,000, he won't be able to afford the difference.

"The third time, $53,000."

"make a deal."

Fortunately, Ray Carson successfully calculated the upper limit of this deal.

The mallet fell with a crisp sound.

Lin Ge closed his eyes and felt a surge of electricity rush from the base of his spine to the top of his head.

He bought a prison!

After the auction, Lingo signed a thick stack of documents in an office on the third floor of the county government building.

The county finance bureau chief was a thin, old man wearing thick glasses. After signing the last document, he looked at him with a strange expression.

Do you know what you've just taken over?

"A prison in need of repairs?"

The bureau chief took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with the hem of his shirt.

"You've taken on a hot potato."

"Judges don't like sending prisoners there because the facilities are terrible."

"The prison guards don't like working there because the pay is too low."

"The prisoners didn't like being there either because of the terrible conditions, but they had no say in it."

"Three dislikes combined make for a troublesome prison."

Lin Ge asked:

"How many people are locked up right now?"

Sixty-three.

"That's what the director replied."

"There were originally sixty-seven, but since last month, four more have transferred out."

"At this rate, by the time you officially take over, there might only be fifty left."

"Then I'll make that number rise again."

Lin Ge smiled.

The bureau chief glanced at him without saying anything, but the meaning in his eyes was clear: another ignorant fool.

……

At 3 p.m. that day, Ringo stood at the entrance of McLean County Correctional Center for the first time.

It's less of a prison and more of an abandoned high school.

The main building is a two-story gray concrete building with iron bars on the windows, but some of the bars are so rusted that they look like they could be bent by hand.

The outer perimeter is surrounded by a three-meter-high barbed wire fence, but there are several obvious holes in the barbed wire, which have been hastily repaired with barbed wire.

Wild grass has grown on the cement surface of the parking lot.

The gate was made of iron and painted with faded blue paint, the peeling paint revealing the rusty red base coat underneath.

The intercom on the door emitted a buzzing electrical sound, and it took Lingo five tries before someone answered.

"Who?"

A male voice came from the walkie-talkie.

"Your new boss."

Lin Ge said neither humbly nor arrogantly.

There seemed to be a pause on the other end of the walkie-talkie, followed by a low, swearing American accent.

Half a minute later, the iron gate slowly slid open, making a piercing metallic scraping sound, as if something was struggling to survive.

Ringo hadn't expected the prison's interior to be even more depressing than its exterior.

A fluorescent light on the ceiling of the entrance hall was flashing incessantly at a frequency that was just right to make one feel dizzy.

The walls were a pale beige, with obvious stains and scratches on the lower half.

The ground was covered with gray rubber mats, which felt sticky when you stepped on them, as if no one had ever mopped them.

A tall man walked from the end of the corridor.

He was in his early forties, wearing a white shirt and khaki trousers, with a bunch of keys hanging from his belt that jingled as he walked.

He had a broad face with high cheekbones, an old scar on the bridge of his nose, and light gray, cloudy eyes that occasionally flashed with a shrewd and dangerous light.

"I am Bobby Lee Harmon, the acting warden here."

He stretched out his hand, and his grip was surprisingly strong.

"Lingo Chen".

Lin Ge withdrew his hand, feeling a dull ache in his finger bones.

"From today onwards, I own and manage this prison."

Harmon's face showed no change in expression:

"I know, the county government has already notified us."

He turned around and started walking inside:

"Where would you like to see first?"

"You arrange it, show me everything."

For Ringo, the visit was like a slow-motion disaster.

The cell block consisted of two rows of iron-barred cubicles, each about six square meters, with bunk beds.

The mattress was gray with large, dark stains on it. Lin Ge wasn't sure what they were; anything could be.

The toilet is an open-style stainless steel squat toilet, installed side by side with the washbasin in the corner.

The air was thick with the stench of ammonia, sweat, and some kind of decaying substance.

Some cells were empty, with the mattresses rolled up and placed to one side.

In the inmates' cells, the prisoners leaned against the bars, staring at Lin Ge with expressionless eyes.

Aside from a hint of curiosity, there was only a numbness that had developed from years of imprisonment in those eyes.

The canteen is a large room of about 100 square meters, with eight long tables and plastic chairs.

The walls are white tiles, but the grout between the tiles has turned black.

The kitchen was at the back, with unwashed pots and pans piled on the stainless steel countertop, and several cockroaches quickly scurried into the cracks in the wall after being startled by the light.

Lin Ge noticed a bag of moldy bread in the corner, clearly showing signs of being gnawed by rats.

Lingo quickly arrived at the workplace, the only place that gave him a glimmer of hope.

A large open space of about 200 square meters contains 20 old sewing machines and a large stamping machine.

The press looks usable, but half of the belt on the sewing machine is broken and the needle is bent.

Rolls of fabric and semi-finished products were piled up against the wall; the prison factory mainly produced state government uniforms and prison uniforms.

Harmon told him that orders here had dropped by 70% in the past six months, causing the machines to be shut down for extended periods.

The key point is the monitoring room, which has only a 14-inch black and white monitor that switches between the feeds from the four cameras.

However, two of the cameras were faulty, and the screen only showed static; this time they were truly broken.

The walkie-talkie system was complete, but there were no batteries in the battery compartment. Harmon told him it was because they were too expensive.

After walking around, Lin Ge arrived at his office.

A room of about 25 square meters is located at the end of the second-floor corridor.

An office desk, a chair, a filing cabinet, and an old IBM typewriter.

A Reagan campaign poster hangs on the wall, probably the newest thing in the entire prison.

The poster features a classic quote from Reagan:

"Let's Make America Great Again."

Reagan's smile was as radiant as if he truly believed in those words.