I bought a prison in the United States.

The 18 newly arrived prisoners completed their registration at 7:30 p.m.

Their orange prison uniforms were distributed to each person, numbered from 74 to 91.

The numbering system was a new rule established by Lingo; prisoners were no longer called by their names when working in the workshop, but by their numbers.

This is not about humiliating anyone, but about standardizing the work process and making the prisoners themselves easier to remember.

Among the new prisoners, there were a few that caught Lingo's eye a few times.

Prisoner number 79 was a 23-year-old Mexican-American named Cesar Ortiz.

The crime is classified as second-degree theft, with a six-year prison sentence and a security level of C.

The case was settled long ago, but it was transferred to Oklahoma two months ago because California prisons were full.

Ortiz's file contains a note that is quite intriguing:

"Skilled in woodworking, he once worked as a teaching assistant in the prison's woodworking workshop."

Carpentry is at least a skill.

The prison workshop currently mainly does metal stamping and sewing, but woodworking skills will definitely be useful if it wants to take on more diverse orders in the future.

Moreover, Ortiz has teaching experience; a prisoner who can teach others has an extra layer of value compared to a prisoner who can only do things on his own.

Another person who caught Ringo's attention was the transferred prisoner, number 81, a 37-year-old Black male named Cole.

The crime was armed robbery, with a sentence of eighteen years. Seven years have already been served. The security level is B.

He came from the population diversion of the Lawton Correctional Centre.

Cole didn't say a word during the registration process.

When Jackson, who was in charge of registration, asked him for his name, he simply repeated it in full at an extremely slow pace.

This person caught Lingo's attention because a label was prominently displayed above his head:

"Endurance"

Unlike the forbearance of ordinary prisoners, this kind of "forbearance" is much more profound, indicating that the other party has been in this state for a long time.

A person who has spent seven years in a place like Lawton Correctional Center will not be transferred to a county jail for no reason.

The state corrections department translates this into plain language in their records:

"We don't need an old prisoner who's been there for seven years to continue influencing newcomers."

Ringo didn't know if Cole would cause any trouble, but what he needed more right now was manpower.

The prison's workshops are operating at full capacity. GE has an order for more equipment, and the new equipment is arriving soon. The prisoners are the source of productivity.

By 8 p.m., the number of inmates at McLean County Correctional Center had officially reached 75.

Besides Ghost Fang, who left, and Blue Snake, who has already died, four prisoners were released or paroled in the past week.

There has been a net increase of 12 people since he took over.

But more people will leave next month, and this growth rate is not satisfactory to Lingo.

The stamping machines in the factory operated steadily, one after another, with a rhythm comparable to a metronome.

Craig and Randy have already taught three other prisoners how to operate the stamping machine, and the second batch of prisoners are learning how to grind and deburr.

That production line, pieced together from old equipment, is operating with remarkable efficiency.

Tommy posted a handwritten notice on the door of the medical room:

"The newly arrived first aid kit has been fully replenished, including suture packs, disinfectant alcohol, bandages, aspirin, and iodine."

"Please line up during outdoor exercise time if needed."

Although the handwriting on this notice is sloppy, the content is reassuring.

This is a well-functioning prison. It doesn't need perfect facilities; environmental issues can be improved gradually.

All Ringo needs to do is let everyone know what they are supposed to do and believe that doing so will yield results.

……

10 PM on August 12th.

Oklahoma City, State Department of Corrections building, Conference Room 302.

Ringo and Eleanor sat on one side of the long table in the conference room, opposite three people.

The man in the middle is Boone, the deputy director of the state corrections department, a man in his fifties.

To his left is Susan Morehouse, the state corrections commissioner’s treasurer, an African American woman in her forties, wearing thick-rimmed black glasses.

On the right is Putnam, an assistant in the state government's legal services office, a man in his early thirties, who is wearing a law school graduation ring on his finger.

The meeting room is small, about thirty square meters.

The walls were the typical beige color found in government office buildings, and the conference table was made of oak, its surface etched with varying shades of rings from the bottoms of countless coffee cups used in meetings.

Eleanor wore a dark blue business suit today, and her blonde hair was pinned back with a silver hair clip.

Her briefcase contained three things:

The prison operation data prepared by Lingo.

A detailed report on the murders and escapes at McLean County Correctional Center.

Finally, there was a draft of the "Bed Guarantee Agreement" that she personally drafted.

"Director Boone."

Eleanor opened the first document in front of her:

"My client, Mr. Ringo Chen, has accomplished the following in less than four weeks since taking over the McLean County Correctional Center on September 20th of this year."

Her voice was clear:

"First, we increased the prison factory's production capacity by over 400% and signed a long-term processing contract with the Tulsa Metal Products Factory!"

"Secondly, our client has established a points-based prisoner management system, enabling over 90% of inmates to participate in labor or skills training!"

"Third, we successfully prevented a high-risk prisoner escape attempt on the night of September 30th!"

"In this incident, the inmate attempted to escape after killing another inmate. Mr. Chen's prison guard was injured during the pursuit, and another inmate helped subdue the murderer at a crucial moment."

She looked up at Boone:

"I have attached a full report on this incident, including the county sheriff's office's on-site investigation report and copies of medical records."

"I believe you have already seen it."

Boone picked up the report and flipped through a few pages.

The photos in the report are very clear.

The body of "Blue Snake" lay across the cell floor, its neck wound covered by a white card.

Another photo shows "Ghost Fang" entering prison after being re-arrested. His face is expressionless, and his eyes are staring straight at the camera.

Boone put the report down:

"I've seen it; you handled it very promptly."

His voice was gentle, but behind that gentleness lay a kind of unfathomable reserve.

This is a man who has spent thirty years in the bureaucratic system. He never speaks definitively, nor does he let anyone feel that he has already made a decision.

"Well then, Chief Boone."

Eleanor continued:

"One of the purposes of my client's visit today is to request the state corrections department to reassess the administrative subsidy standards of the McLean County Correctional Center."

"The prison currently houses 75 inmates, but our medical facilities are very basic and there are no professional doctors on duty."