I bought a prison in the United States.

"I see."

Ringo nodded:

"We have all the documents ready."

He gestured for Hamon to distribute the prepared folders to the five people present.

The folder contains the prison's operational data for the past month:

The factory's monthly output increased from $4,000 to over $50,000.

The incidence of violent incidents has decreased by 60%.

The labor participation rate among prisoners increased from 30% to 95%.

Craig spent two hours last night typing up these documents for Ringo, using the old IBM typewriter in the prison office.

The county finance bureau chief opened the folder, looked at a few pages, and then handed it to the auditor next to him.

The auditor began checking the numbers line by line, his lips moving slightly as if he were reciting them silently.

The man in the dark blue suit flipped through two pages and then closed the book.

"Mr. Chen, these numbers look impressive, but I'm more concerned about the actual situation. Could you give us a tour?"

"Of course, no problem. Please follow me."

Lin Ge stood up.

The tour route was exactly the same as the one Ringo took when he first visited the prison.

The prison area, canteen, workshop, medical room, and monitoring room.

But this time, the visit was no longer a slow-motion disaster.

The cell floor had just been mopped, and the air was still filled with the smell of bleach.

Every cell bed was neatly made, and the toilets and washbasins were gleaming.

The prisoners, dressed in clean orange prison uniforms, walked in twos and threes toward the workshop, guided by the prison guards.

In the dining hall, Mrs. Martha was preparing lunch.

She wore a new white chef's hat today, which Lingo specially bought for her.

The storefront has been completely renovated today, looking brand new compared to a month ago.

The stainless steel countertop in the kitchen was polished until it shone, and the cockroaches had disappeared. Lingo bought insecticide last week and asked Randy to spray it in the kitchen every night.

Inside the factory, three stamping machines are running at full speed.

The equipment delivered by Peterson has been fully installed and debugged. The ten skilled workers trained by Craig are distributed among the three stamping machines, each wearing protective glasses and gloves.

Old Foster sat in a corner on a plastic chair with other older prisoners, performing simple work of sorting items.

In the medical room, Tommy was taking the blood pressure of a new inmate.

The medical cabinet was neatly stacked with newly replenished bandages, disinfectant alcohol, and aspirin.

A handwritten medical record sheet was posted on the wall, recording the medication details of each prisoner who needed to take medication regularly.

In the monitoring room, a new closed-circuit television system is being installed.

Twelve of the sixteen color cameras have been installed, two video recorders have arrived, and the monitoring monitor has not yet been unpacked and is placed in a corner.

"How much did this surveillance system cost?"

Judge Hammond suddenly spoke, his first words since entering prison.

Lin Ge turned his head:

"The $50,000 was a pilot grant from the state corrections department."

"Only 50,000?"

Hammond repeated the number, his tone as if he were savoring a not-quite-satisfactory glass of wine:

"Some of the prisoners I signed the verdicts were worth only a tenth of that amount."

After saying this, he continued walking forward without waiting for Ling Ge's response.

The audit lasted the entire morning.

Lin Ge led five men through every corner of the prison, answering countless questions and showing countless documents.

The auditor's whiteboard was covered with notes.

The old bureau chief's expression changed from "bored" to "tired," and then from "tired" to "I just want to eat lunch."

But Judge Hammond maintained that detached scrutiny throughout.

He didn't ask questions or take notes; he just looked and listened, seemingly completely unconcerned about the state of the prison.

Even Lin Ge was initially unsure of the other party's attitude, but he soon understood.

……

At noon, Lingo arranged lunch in the reception room.

This lunch was much more lavish than usual; Mrs. Martha had specially prepared roast chicken and mashed potatoes, costing five or six times more than the prisoners' meals.

The county finance bureau chief ate quickly, the auditor ate very politely, and the other two chatted at the table as if they had finished their work.

Judge Hammond ate only a small piece of chicken, then put down his knife and fork and asked in a low voice:

"Mr. Chen, would it be convenient for us to speak privately?"

Lin Ge turned his head and glanced at his deputy.

Hamon nodded slightly, then led the others out of the reception room.

The door closed gently behind me.

Only Ringo and Judge Hammond remained in the meeting room.

The sunlight streamed through the faded state flag outside the window, making the air feel somewhat dry.

Hammond took a silver cigarette case from the inside pocket of his suit, opened it, and took out a long, thin cigar.

He didn't ask Ling Ge if he minded, and just lit it.

The smoke rose slowly in the afternoon sunlight.

"Mr. Chen."

Hammond exhaled a puff of smoke:

"You're a smart person, so I won't beat around the bush."

"Please speak."

"The state has already approved the bed allocation agreement, and the county has no problem with it in principle."

"90% occupancy rate, or a 90% subsidy if less than 90%, that's the condition you negotiated."

Hammond flicked his cigarette ash, which landed on the table; there was no ashtray.

"But how the county government writes its audit report is quite flexible."

Lin Ge looked at him but didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"For example, the condition of facilities."

"Your surveillance system is still being installed, there are cracks in the welds of the bars on two windows in the cell block, and there is no full-time doctor in the medical room. These are all issues that can be included in the report."

Hammond's voice was calm:

"If these issues are included in the audit report, the amount of the bed subsidy will be significantly reduced."

He paused deliberately before continuing:

"Conversely, if these problems are described as 'being improved' in the report, then the subsidy will be received in full."

Lin Ge frowned slightly; he already understood what was going on, and followed the other person's words, asking:

"So, Your Honor, how do you think these problems can be transformed into 'being improved'?"

Hammond chuckled softly:

"Mr. Chen, let me be frank. The bed agreement for this prison involves $150 million in government subsidies every year."

"With your factory orders and the state government's pilot grants, your annual income will be at least $250 million!"

He held the cigar between his fingers, pointing at Ringo:

"All this revenue is based on bed occupancy rates. You need prisoners, the more the better."

"And I can help you fill this prison."

Lin Ge listened to these words without making a comment.