I bought a prison in the United States.

"Ding ding!"

At McLean County Correctional Center, the breakfast bell rings promptly at 6:30 a.m.

The sound wasn't the piercing siren of a prison movie, but an old brass bell hanging on the wall at the end of the cell block corridor, held by a thin iron chain.

The ringtone was muffled, like it was being coughed up from an old man with phlegm stuck in his throat.

Wade's bell-ringing motion was completely devoid of any unnecessary elements.

Every morning he stands in the same spot and pulls the chain three times with the same force, no more, no less.

This was a rule he had learned from his previous prison guard eight years ago.

The previous prison guard learned from the previous one, and going back further, it can be traced back to when this prison was still an orphanage.

Some things change in prison, such as the people living in the cells.

Some things, however, remain unchanged for decades, like the 6:30 a.m. bell.

The iron bars in the prison cell block would not open for ten minutes after the bell rang.

These ten minutes are for the prisoners to get out of bed, get dressed, and tidy up their bunks.

The prison handbook says it's time for tidying up, but the inmates who are woken up call it "the damn ten minutes."

Randy was always the first to get up.

His biological clock had been tamed by the prison; he could wake up around 6:25 without even needing a bell.

This isn't a skill to be proud of, but it allows him to earn two extra points each week in the "Household Organization" category.

He folded the blanket into a perfect square, with aligned edges and sharp corners.

The bed sheet must be pulled flat, without a single wrinkle.

The pillow should be placed on top of the blanket, with the opening facing left.

These rules were taught to him by Craig.

"If you can't even fold a blanket properly, how can I trust you to operate a stamping machine with a tolerance of ±0.3 millimeters?"

Craig was marking dimensions on a drawing with a pencil stub when he said this.

He forgot what he said as soon as he finished, but Randy remembered it.

In Randy's short and chaotic life, no one ever associated "folding blankets" with "operating a press".

He lived in three different foster homes, attended two different secondary schools, and worked odd jobs at three different fast food restaurants.

Apart from Ringo and Craig, no one ever told him that there was a connection between small things and big things.

He folded the blanket, sat on the edge of the bed, and waited for the iron bars to open.

Separated by three iron bars, Hector Rivera, nicknamed "Devil Fang," was still not up.

He lay on the lower bunk, facing the wall, breathing steadily. The blanket was crumpled up at his feet, and the pillow was askew. He had no intention of getting up at all.

As for his three henchmen, whom the prisoners privately called "the three dogs," they had all gotten up, but no one dared to call him that.

Ghost Fang's wake-up time, like everything else he does, is completely unrestrained.

At McLean County Correctional Center, most inmates' routines are determined by that chain.

But Ghost Fang's schedule is determined by himself, and even if he sleeps until noon, no one dares to disturb him.

This is not a privilege written into any regulations, but it is more binding than any regulations.

Unless you point a gun at his head and force him to get up, county prisons prohibit armed personnel from entering the prison area to prevent gun-grabbing incidents.

The prison guards' main weapons are still batons and pepper spray; Taser guns have only recently been commercially available and are not yet widely used.

Therefore, the prison guards could only acquiesce to this, but they would not admit that they were afraid of him.

However, without a gun, it would be quite risky to subdue a vicious criminal.

Wade would say it's a management strategy, giving certain prisoners some minor privileges to make them more cooperative in other ways.

Kofi's statement would be more direct:

"It does no good to wake a sleeping wolf."

But the real reason is simpler.

Before "Ghost Fang" arrived, the prison had already experienced three small-scale riots.

The first time was because the food was terrible, the second time was because the heating was broken all winter, and the third time was because a prison guard threw a prisoner's family letter into the trash can.

Strangely enough, the riots stopped after "Ghost Fang" arrived.

The prisoners weren't all afraid of him, although most were, but mainly because he had established a new order.

A simpler, more brutal, but also more effective order than the prison manual.

One big problem can keep the small problems in check.

Under him, the power structure of the prison resembled a pyramid.

He himself is at the top of the tower.

The second layer consists of "Three Dogs" and several other core members.

The third level consists of prisoners with skills, such as Craig.

Although they do not participate in gang activities, they are allowed to remain relatively independent because they can repair machines, understand medicine, or have other uses.

At the very bottom are people like Randy.

As for "Mayor" Marcus Wayne, he is not in this pyramid.

Because he is at the top of another pyramid.

"rustle--!"

The sound of the iron bars sliding open echoed in the corridor.

Randy stood up, walked to the cell door, and waited for the guard to call his name.

He stood at the doorway differently from the other prisoners, with his hands hanging at his sides and his eyes looking straight ahead, neither overly tense nor pretending to be relaxed.

He learned this posture from observing Craig.

Craig always maintained an attitude of "I'm just here temporarily" in any situation, which allowed him to find a delicate balance between prisoners and guards.

Miller.

Wade walked up to Craig's cell and made a mark on the chalk in his hand.

"arrive."

Craig's voice was calm and composed, neither humble nor arrogant.

Rivera.

Wade walked up to "Ghost Fang's" cell.

No one answered.

Wade was already used to it, so he didn't repeat it a second time.

He wrote the letter P on the board, which means "present but not responding".

Then continue walking forward.

This is a tacit understanding between him and "Ghost Fang".

Wade wouldn't ask "Ghost Fang" to stand at the door and answer like other prisoners, and "Ghost Fang" wouldn't cause trouble while Wade was on duty.

Both sides are satisfied with this arrangement.

The roll call lasted for about ten minutes.

Sixty-three names, sixty-three responses, some loud and some vague.

Prison guard Tommy stood at the other end of the corridor, holding another board in his hand, and cross-checked with Wade.

The double roll call was a rule set by Deputy Warden Harmon to prevent anyone from "disappearing" during the few minutes between roll call and entering the mess hall.

This had happened before, but not in this jail, but in another county jail in Tulsa.

One prisoner answered "yes" during roll call, then slipped into the laundry room amidst the chaos of the crowd moving around and climbed out through the ventilation duct.

He was out there for four whole days before he was caught and brought back.

After being brought back, he was given an additional five years in prison, and the prison guard responsible for taking attendance was also docked a month's salary.

All the rules of prison management are written with similar stories in mind, drawing lessons from peers or becoming one of those lessons.

Behind every rule lies the mistake one person made and the price another person paid for it.