I bought a prison in the United States.

One order was placed with Honeywell's local agent for a complete closed-circuit television (CCTV) monitoring system, including sixteen color cameras, two 24-hour video recorders, and a 20-inch monitor.

The second loan repayment settled the principal and interest owed to moneylender Ray Carson, totaling $58,750.

The third bill was given to the county hospital to settle Wade and Jerome's medical bills and to prepay the ambulance dispatch fees for the next six months.

"A grant of $70."

Harmon counted the zeros on the check:

"After you pay off your loan, the equipment, and all the medical bills, how much will you have left?"

"There are still over 400,000 left."

Harmon raised an eyebrow. "You mean, this money is now in your pocket?"

"Of course not. The state corrections department isn't stupid; they'll be watching where that money goes."

"I promised them that the money would be used to upgrade the prison's security system."

Lin Ge took out another document from the drawer, and said with a half-smile:

"And you, Deputy Warden Harmon, will have your salary increased to $3500 per month starting today, as part of the security upgrade."

Harmon was slightly taken aback. A monthly salary of $3500 was close to that of a mid-sized company executive in Oklahoma at that time.

Lingo continued:

"The base salary for all six players, including Wade, has been increased to $2200, with night shift allowances calculated separately."

"The four newly recruited prison guards will start work next Monday, with a base salary of 1500 yuan and a three-month probationary period."

"We finally look like a proper prison."

Harmon pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lit it happily, and thought that he could smoke a more expensive cigarette tomorrow.

"Similar? No."

Ringo presented the final revised version of the points system to Hamon:

"It's not like that yet. It's about letting them know at a glance that this place is different, so that when they enter the gate they feel like they've walked into a prison from the wrong era."

Harmon looked down at the document; the sender's name, clearly printed under the title on the cover, was the Oklahoma Department of Corrections.

He suppressed his surprise and turned to the inside page. The first sentence was the standard wording given by the state government to the pilot units.

At the very bottom of the printed text was a new clause he had never seen before:

"During the pilot period, the warden was granted the discretion to temporarily restrict the points of some prisoners in the event of a security incident."

"This clause should be explained in writing to the Correctional Authority within five days after the emergency has subsided."

Hamon read it twice, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his lips.

On October 17, three cars stopped precisely at 9:00 a.m. outside the iron gate of McLean County Correctional Center.

Leading the way was a black Dodge from the county courthouse, followed by a blue Plymouth from the county finance department.

Finally, there was a dark green Buick that Ringo had never seen before, with the McLean County emblem printed on the door.

Lin Ge stood by the office window, watching the three cars come to a stop one after another.

He wore a new suit today, which cost $120 and was from a brand name. It was more than ten times more expensive than the one he had worn for three weeks.

But we need to be dignified today.

Hamon stood behind him, arms crossed, his expression one of anticipation for a storm:

"Five people came, two more than the number stated in the notice."

"The county finance bureau and the county court each sent an auditor, but it seems there are other important figures involved."

Lin Ge saw two people get out of the first car.

One was the county finance bureau chief, a thin old man with thick glasses. I had seen him before when we signed the purchase contract.

The other one was younger, wearing a gray suit and carrying a briefcase; he was probably an auditor from the finance bureau.

Two people got out of the second car, whom Lin Ge didn't recognize.

A tall man, wearing a dark blue suit, with slicked-back hair, looked like a lawyer.

The person next to him was slightly overweight and was holding a writing board.

Only one person got out of the third car.

When the man climbed out of the Buick, Harmon looked quite surprised.

"It's Judge Hammond; he actually came in person."

"Oh?"

Lin Ge's gaze fell on that person.

Judge Hammond looked to be around fifty years old, with silver hair combed into a neat side part.

He had a long face, a square jaw, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

Judging by his appearance alone, he is a person who commands respect.

But Lin Ge already knew the other party's background in advance.

Crawford's former college classmate, a powerful figure in the McLean County justice system whom you shouldn't mess with.

Roger, whom he met a month ago, had reminded him of something:

"If you lay a finger on him, the entire legal community in Oklahoma will be against you."

Lin Ge put down his coffee cup.

"Let's go, let's go pick up the guests."

The visitor room at McLean County Correctional Center is located on the first floor, next to the administration corridor, and is usually used to receive inmates' families and visiting lawyers.

The room was about 20 square meters, with a long table, six folding chairs, and a faded state flag and a standard portrait of President Reagan hanging on the wall.

When Lin Ge pushed open the door, the five people were already sitting in a row across the long table.

The county finance bureau chief sat on the far left.

He looked somewhat irritable today, like an old civil servant who had been pulled into a meeting at the last minute, with "bored" as his emotional label.

The auditor sat next to the bureau chief, taking documents out of his briefcase.

His label was "nervous," a light color, but it kept pulsating.

The two people Lin Ge didn't recognize sat in the middle.

The one in the dark blue suit was flipping through a printed agenda, while the short, stout one was writing something on a whiteboard.

Their labels were "routine" and "can't wait to leave."

Judge Hammond sat on the far right, not looking at any documents, his hands crossed on the table.

He was very relaxed, as if he were waiting for a late guest in his own living room.

The other person focused their gaze on Lin Ge. Even though there was no hostility, the way they looked at him, as if they were scrutinizing a criminal, still made Lin Ge feel somewhat uncomfortable.

The label above the judge's head was so faint it was almost invisible, except for a single layer of "composure".

Lin Ge's wariness of this person increased slightly, but he remained outwardly calm and greeted him warmly.

"Welcome, everyone, to McLean County Correctional Center."

Ringo sat down in the main seat, with Hamon standing behind him:

"I am Ringo Chen, the person in charge here."

"This is my deputy warden, Bobby Lee Harmon."

The county finance bureau chief coughed:

"Mr. Chen, we are here today to conduct a follow-up audit of that bed guarantee agreement."

"The state corrections bureau has already issued your pilot program approval to the county."

"According to procedure, we need to conduct a comprehensive assessment of the prison's facilities, management capabilities, and financial situation before we can sign a county-level bed guarantee agreement."