I bought a prison in the United States.

Three o'clock in the morning.

County sheriff's cars were parked outside the gates of McLean County Correctional Center.

The red and blue police lights flashed alternately in the darkness, turning the prison's gray concrete walls into an eerie purple.

Two county sheriffs, accompanied by Harmon, entered the jail area, took photos of the scene of "Blue Snake's" death, and collected evidence.

They took photos of Wade's wounds, Jerome's fists, and the process of Ghost Fang being put into the car.

At four o'clock in the morning, the county police department's preliminary report was completed.

The report concludes that:

"Prisoner Hector Rivera broke out of prison while in solitary confinement, entered the cell of prisoner Hector Saldiva, and killed him with a homemade weapon."

"River then escaped to the roof, where he was discovered by prison guard Wade Malloy."

"During the subjugation of Rivera, Officer Malloy was injured, and inmate Jerome Washington, under the command of Warden Ringo Chan, assisted in subjugating Rivera."

Rivera has been recaptured and will be transferred to a federal prison to await further proceedings.

The report made no mention of the few dozen seconds that Ringo closed his eyes on the roof, or of the impulse that drove several people to rush toward the roof.

How did Jerome Washington go from being a drug addict to an underground boxer who subdued Ghost Fang with just two punches?

Some things are not included in the report because they cannot be explained by existing logic.

Most people in this world need to believe that things happen for reasonable and explainable reasons.

When something goes beyond their interpretive framework, if they can't pretend nothing happened, they must re-describe it in an acceptable way.

Most prisoners in jail don't have the time to think about these supernatural phenomena; they're only concerned with getting food.

At 5:30 a.m., a white light gradually appeared on the horizon.

Dawn and dusk in Oklahoma are very similar, the difference lies in the direction.

The light of dusk is in the west, the light of dawn is in the east.

Lin Ge stood by the office window, watching the ray of light slowly expand on the eastern horizon.

His temples were still throbbing, and there was a dull, aching sensation behind his eyes.

Even after trying to expand one's consciousness to its limit, there are still some residual effects, much like the delayed onset muscle soreness that occurs after extreme exercise.

His body is telling him that he used too much force tonight, and that the dosage was too high.

"Boss, that was a false alarm."

Harmon pushed open the door and came in, carrying two cups of hot coffee.

He handed one glass to Ringo, took the other glass for himself, and sat down in the chair opposite Ringo.

"I'm so glad you're alright, otherwise I wouldn't be able to handle all these orders."

He unbuttoned his shirt collar, revealing the edge of a white vest underneath. His hair was a mess, and there were dark purple shadows under his eyes.

He hasn't slept a wink since 1 a.m.

"The county police have left."

Hamon took a sip of coffee.

"Ghost Fang is already on its way to the federal prison."

"The court said that considering he killed three people in the county jail, he will most likely face the death penalty this time."

Lin Ge remained silent, lost in thought.

He held his coffee cup, but didn't drink it.

The steam from the coffee rose in front of him, forming a thin layer of mist that condensed into tiny droplets on the windowpane.

Hamon knew the other person was listening, and continued:

"Wade's injury isn't serious. He needed four stitches and suffered a mild concussion. The doctor advised him to rest for a week, but he said he'd be back in three days."

"Jerome's hand required six stitches. The doctor said there was no damage to the tendons or nerves, and the stitches can be removed in two weeks."

"The two of them spent a total of $2300. Because Jerome didn't have health insurance, Wade received an extra $200 in workers' compensation."

"Now the prison is out of money again."

He took another sip of coffee:

"Blue Snake's body will be sent to the county medical examiner's office this morning for an autopsy. The official cause of death report will be available in about a week."

"You'll need to sign some documents later."

Lingo finally spoke:

"Hamon."

"Um?"

"How many years have you been a prison guard?"

Hamon thought for a moment:

"Including the time I was in the military and managed a military detention center... it was about fifteen years."

"How many times in the past fifteen years have you witnessed something like tonight?"

Hamon put down his cup and replied:

"I've seen prisoners kill each other seven or eight times, and I've seen prisoners kill prison guards once."

"That was seven years ago in Georgia, when a prisoner sentenced to life imprisonment stabbed a guard in the carotid artery with a cafeteria fork."

"The prison guard's name was Wilson, he was in his forties, and we found a birthday card drawn for him by his youngest daughter in his locker."

He looked at the dark brown coffee in the cup:

"Since then, I have never put any personal items in the locker again."

Lin Ge stopped asking questions. Everyone in the prison has their own story, and every story has parts that they don't want to be revisited.

"List."

Hamon suddenly said:

"I don't know what happened on the roof tonight, and I don't want to know, but I want to ask you, what are your plans for the future?"

"Riots in prisons are not uncommon, but today's incident was fortunate; it was brought under control in time and prevented from escalating into a bigger problem."

"But if an inmate dies while in custody, the correctional authorities might become uneasy and send someone to inspect the prison."

Lin Ge picked up his coffee cup and took a sip.

The coffee was bitter, and the temperature was just enough to scald the edge of the tongue, but not enough to cause real pain.

Mrs. Martha doesn't start work until six o'clock, so this cup of coffee was brewed by Harmon himself in the duty room.

His coffee-making skills were inversely proportional to his prisoner-management skills; it was so bitter it tasted like it had been steeped in an ashtray.

"Hamon."

Lin Ge put down his cup:

"I'm going to Oklahoma City."

"To the state corrections office?"

"Um."

"Where are you going?"

"I need money."

Harmon raised his eyebrows.

Lin Ge remained calm. He didn't believe that what happened tonight was necessarily a bad thing; rather, he rationally stated:

"McLean County Correctional Center quelled an inmate riot in less than a month."

"No, it's not a riot, it's a murder and prison break."

"My prison guard was injured during a brave pursuit, and my inmates subdued the murderer for me."

"The prison's management team maintained order under extreme circumstances and prevented a high-risk inmate from escaping!"

"This is exactly what I saw: an excellent arrest operation, resolving a crisis extremely efficiently!"

Lingo was stating a pre-written report:

"If the state corrections department deems such performance unworthy of increased administrative subsidies and medical funding, then I will make a hundred copies of this report and send them to every newspaper in Oklahoma."