Chapter Fifty-Two: Seizing Power Through Capture (Part One)

“Everyone stop immediately! Hands on your heads, squat down where you are!” The prison’s massive loudspeakers blared relentlessly, but to no avail—no one paid any attention.

At the nearby guard posts, prison officers had already drawn their firearms, aiming at the inmates inside, waiting only for the warden’s command to open fire.

“What? We’re not allowed to harm the high-risk inmates?” The warden shouted in disbelief. “What kind of nonsense is this? They’re the ones causing the worst chaos. Over a dozen people have already died. Are we just supposed to watch them slaughter each other?”

“I don’t care what methods you use. Under no circumstances are you to harm those high-risk inmates. That is an order!” The voice of the commanding officer came cold and emotionless through the radio.

“Yes, sir!” The warden had no choice but to comply. Even with guns in hand, he dared not use them. How could they possibly subdue so many rioters all at once?

The warden’s head ached with frustration, but the situation inside allowed no time for hesitation. Lives were being lost every moment; time was of the essence.

“Separate them!” Zhao Li shouted upon seeing the turmoil, but amid the chaos and noise, his voice went unheard.

“Hurry up and separate them!” Zhao Li grabbed a regular prison guard. The guard glanced at Zhao’s military rank, then yanked his arm free. “It’s too chaotic—how can we separate them? Just wait for orders from above to suppress them!” Saying this, he nervously reached for his weapon.

It seemed everyone was facing such a situation for the first time; no one had the experience to handle it. If this continued, many more casualties were inevitable. Zhao Li looked at the mass of chaos inside and shouted once more before leaping in.

In midair, the police baton was already in his hand. Lately, Zhao Li had been honing his Nameless True Qi cultivation, practicing grappling techniques, and mastering the T-shaped baton with great skill.

As Zhao Li entered the inmate zone, a few prison guards’ eyes flickered with a faint, inscrutable light—but it vanished almost instantly.

Landing, Zhao Li immediately struck out. The nearest inmate let out a shriek of pain. As he turned, Zhao’s other hand grabbed his wrist, twisting it painfully. Another scream pierced the air as the inmate clutched his bent elbow in agony.

This area was not even the core of the conflict. Zhao had to forcibly knock down several inmates blocking his path in the blink of an eye. His strikes were measured: none were knocked unconscious, but several joints were dislocated, rendering them incapable of fighting.

Strangely, not a single guard descended to assist Zhao Li. Though puzzled, he had no time to dwell on it—especially when he heard shouts threatening the delicate young woman among the high-risk inmates.

No matter who stood in his way, Zhao struck at their most vulnerable points with heavy blows. Undeniably, his expertise with the baton and his peculiar grappling skills were formidable; none who faced him could withstand even two exchanges.

Along the way, the injured were either with broken arms or legs; no one remained unscathed. The “luckiest” were those knocked unconscious by the baton, their bodies intact without any abnormal joint dislocations.

After felling a dozen or so, Zhao Li finally reached the edge of the fray. “Stop! I order you to stop!”

In the chaos, no one paid attention to Zhao’s solitary voice. Moreover, aside from Zhao, no other guards intervened—everyone was waiting for orders.

Several fists still swung toward Zhao’s face amid the turmoil. His expression darkened instantly, fury rising. In his eyes, this chaos was not without reason. High-risk inmates enjoyed privileged treatment; many times Zhao had to address them respectfully, which naturally bred jealousy among the ordinary prisoners. But no matter the reason, it did not justify violence—especially when a large group was threatening harm to Ban Yunchan.

The crowd was too chaotic to spot Ban Yunchan. Zhao felt both anger and anxiety gnawing at him, especially as reckless blows came his way, igniting his fury.

Fighting was a common occurrence at Montbatten Prison—a routine event happening once or twice every few days, treated as minor disorderly conduct.

With this in mind, Zhao’s strikes became swift and precise. Facing the onslaught, he spun his baton deftly, unleashing a rapid series of horizontal strikes like a rainstorm upon the most aggressive aggressors shoving him.

Several unlucky men immediately doubled over in pain, only to be crushed under the weight of those behind them, screaming as they were trampled.

Zhao showed no concern for their fates. His baton never ceased. As those in front fell, waves of desperate men surged forward. Even the timid were swept up by the frenzy, fearless of life or death. Some fell, but more charged onward.

His baton struck countless bodies. The agonized cries stirred Zhao’s anger anew. Since his clash with Sanders, he had never felt such rage. Entering alone, unsupported by any guards, coupled with recent subtle alienation, the invisible weight of anger had built up inside him.

Why was he ostracized despite his loyalty? He had saved all the prisoners, yet was still shunned. Was it because he refused to play safe like the others? And now, the higher-ups declared their handling was flawless. So in future dangers, it would be acceptable for those guarding the perimeter to simply abandon their posts? Was that truly right?

Had he saved the wrong people? Not only the guards but the prisoners called his decision foolish. From their perspective, Zhao’s actions should have been as merciful as the Bodhisattva of Compassion. But from the overall standpoint, Zhao was still wrong—so utterly wrong.

Was he supposed to abandon all inmates’ lives at that moment? Return to the barracks with everyone else, watching this special prison be swallowed by the waves? Why? Why? Was he truly wrong?

He refused to accept it! Zhao’s anger roared silently within: The court had not sentenced them to death; they should not die now! No one had the right to recklessly give up another’s life under any circumstance!

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