Chapter Sixty-Two: Becoming Acquainted with the Work

Zhao Li hurriedly stood up and followed the old warden to the door. The prison guards outside seemed to have already learned the news; it was unclear how the old warden had notified them. Aside from those on duty, the others were lined up neatly at the entrance of the warden’s office. Upon seeing the old man appear, they offered him a crisp, professional military salute as a send-off.

There was no grand farewell ceremony, nor any superfluous words. The warden returned the salute with equal precision, then strode past them into the prisoner sector.

Inside the prisoner sector, Zhao Li was even more surprised. Led by James, the high-security prisoners had formed a neat square formation, standing like soldiers of the prison. Only Kang Hongyuan and Professor Hans stood to one side, and even Ban Yunchan was there. It was likely arranged by the guards. Since they were not military personnel, they were not part of the formation.

"Attention! Salute!" Following James’s formal command, all the high-security prisoners performed the most standard military gestures to bid farewell to the warden who had served for decades. The three who were not soldiers offered a solemn gaze of respect.

The old warden said nothing, silently returning the salute before nodding and walking toward the warship parked on the nearby parade ground. It was the first time a transport warship had landed in the prisoner sector; it was likely a privilege afforded only because the old warden was retiring.

Two young colonels stood solemnly on either side of the hatch. Upon seeing the old warden, they stood at attention and saluted in silence. A white-haired officer with four stars on his uniform emerged from the hatch and returned the salute. The two men shared a brief, joyful handshake before the officer warmly took the warden's hand and led him onto the ship.

The hatch closed, and the warship slowly lifted off. Everyone stood behind Zhao Li, silently watching the vessel ascend. Only when the warship became a small black dot in the sky and finally vanished did Zhao Li slowly turn around.

"Alright, everyone back to your duties!" Zhao Li looked at the dozens of people before him and issued his first order since being promoted to warden. The crowd dispersed, yet Zhao Li remained somewhat melancholy, unable to pinpoint exactly why.

"That old man lived a life of hardship; retirement is a good thing for him," Kang Hongyuan’s voice drifted over. "He’s much more fortunate than I am. I want to retire, but I can't." His tone carried a hint of envy.

Zhao Li remained silent; he had no interest in talking. Kang Hongyuan could tell. "It’s only a matter of days now. The old guy left so quietly; it must be a disappointment to many." Looking in the direction where the warship had disappeared, Kang Hongyuan sighed. "You should be thinking about how to control this prison and look after us."

The remark reminded Zhao Li that he could not remain despondent just because of the warden’s retirement. He quickly pulled himself together and returned to the warden's office.

To be honest, he felt uncomfortable. Having lived in the prisoner sector for nearly a year, Zhao Li felt strange being the only person in the spacious warden's office.

He opened the old warden’s luxurious liquor cabinet, which still held over a dozen bottles of top-tier spirits. However, Zhao Li had no interest in them for the moment. Seeing the fresh berries he usually consumed lined up neatly in the transparent refrigerator in the corner, he couldn't help but pick up the manual juicer and toss two berries inside.

Without much thought, he tried to press down the lid with one hand, mimicking the old warden, only to be stunned when he realized he couldn't push it down without using his internal energy.

What kind of fruit was this? Zhao Li had consumed plenty of them but never knew their name, nor did he realize that something so bright and delicious could be so tough. Thinking of how the old warden always squeezed a glass of juice with just two fingers, he felt a wave of nostalgia.

With a surge of his nameless internal energy, Zhao Li pressed down with both hands. As the vibrant red juice poured into the glass, he realized just how much his own skill level trailed behind the old warden’s. There was truth to the saying that the older the ginger, the spicier it gets.

This small episode seemed to lighten his sadness. Zhao Li began to look through the documents left on the desk: daily management regulations, shift schedules, and the summaries and plans he was expected to produce periodically. It appeared the old warden had considered everything thoroughly.

Opening the query terminal, Zhao Li discovered his access level had been set to the highest, allowing him to view information, including the files of the prisoners. However, he had no appetite for that just yet; his spirits remained low.

Following the schedule, Zhao Li patrolled the prison and found nothing amiss. It would have been a miracle if something had gone wrong so soon after a patrol with the old warden. After a moment of thought, he headed to the prisoner sector, straight to Ban Yunchan’s cell.

No one stopped Zhao Li. Even when he wasn't the warden, he had been free to come and go, and now that he had been promoted, the restriction was even less likely.

In truth, the prison guards didn't seem to have any objection to his promotion. Zhao Li knew that the guards were rotated annually, with a few "special forces soldiers who had made mistakes" sent over for what was euphemistically called "downward training." Once their time was up, they would return to their posts. Officers in combat units rarely cared about the position of a small-time prison warden.

Ban Yunchan had already returned to her cell. Seeing Zhao Li, she said nothing, simply handing him a glass of water with a gentle smile, watching him drink it in silence.

"Am I being incompetent?" Zhao Li suddenly asked.

"How could you be?" Ban Yunchan’s smile was always warming. Only now did he notice that she was a woman of peerless beauty; perhaps he hadn't realized it before. The longer they spent together, the more beautiful she seemed—it was truly a magical thing.

"You feel this way because you are a person who values loyalty and affection, and that is a good thing," Ban Yunchan said with a smile. "At the very least, I think you are much better than the rest of us 'freaks'."

"Freaks?" Zhao Li’s attention was successfully diverted. "How could you be a freak?"

"What do you think?" Ban Yunchan laughed. "Sometimes I can no longer distinguish between my true self and the persona I’ve adopted. Simply put, I don't know if I’m living behind a mask or if I have become one with it. It’s a typical psychological issue—what ordinary people call being a freak."

"Ah!" Zhao Li was dumbfounded. He had never heard anyone admit to being a freak so openly. Though he didn't fully grasp her talk of "self" and "persona," he knew it wasn't a term used to describe a normal person.

"As for the people outside, they either suffer from war syndrome or other psychological issues. In any case, not a single one of them is normal. Don't believe me? Do you think a normal person would commit the crimes they did?" Hearing this, Zhao Li couldn't come up with a single example to prove they weren't freaks.

"It seems you are recovering quickly." Before Zhao Li could react, Ban Yunchan smiled and congratulated him. "Actually, the best way to remember someone is to manage what they left behind even better than they did. That way, you won't fail their expectations, don't you agree?"

Zhao Li never seemed able to resist her logic. He nodded happily, felt his spirits lift, and returned to the warden's office.

The half-finished glass of juice was still there, and he took another sip. He seemed to have picked up the old warden’s mannerisms when drinking fine wine. Savoring the rare deliciousness on his tongue, he began to familiarize himself with his duties.

It had seemed that the old warden lived a life of leisure with plenty of time to enjoy himself, but once Zhao Li took over, he realized that wasn't the case at all. The logistics planning alone—beyond scheduling—involved detailed meal menus, catering to the different tastes of the inmates. Ensuring everyone was satisfied was a massive headache.

Then there were the guard rotations, the regular communication with the three emergency centers, the routine security checks, and the maintenance of the defense systems. It was enough to keep him busy from the moment he opened his eyes until he closed them at night.

Furthermore, he had to navigate various relationships. For now, it was just the logistics department and the emergency centers, but he worried about other military factions getting involved later. The thought gave him a migraine.

The old warden hadn't seemed fond of these tasks either, but he had the authority to ignore them. Zhao Li did not have that luxury; he had to forge ahead.

How could he maintain the old warden’s level of cultivation with such trivial work? Was this, too, a necessary means of tempering one's state of mind? Ban Yunchan’s words echoed in his ears: "True wisdom lies in understanding the world; expertise in human affairs is the essence of life." Perhaps this was a great way to practice?

Initially, he felt unfamiliar with the tasks, but as time passed, he found they weren't that complicated. For instance, if he didn't want to plan the meals, he could just have the inmates submit their own requests. Since it was for them to eat, they wouldn't slack off.

Scheduling the guards was even simpler: a rotating monthly roster meant little extra workload. Periodic checks were also easy; since they were scheduled well in advance, they were simple to manage. Within a week, Zhao Li had mastered these duties, and operations ran smoothly.

In his spare time, Zhao Li wondered what the old warden had meant by his words—especially the domineering, "I am the higher-ups." Was the warden's influence truly that vast?

"Whatever the problem, I'll smooth it over for you." Was that true or false? Zhao Li couldn't say, but the deep sense of protection those words conveyed moved him deeply.

He didn't know when his attitude toward the old warden had changed. If not for the initial, profound challenges the old warden had posed, Zhao Li knew he wouldn't be the man he was today.

Though still a lowly second lieutenant, Zhao Li could see a brighter future ahead. Was he obsessed with rank? Why was he so pleased with himself?

With his work organized and his spirits high, Zhao Li had plenty of time to spare. He had grown accustomed to high-intensity training and felt restless if he didn't get his daily workout.

The new guards who arrived to replace the old warden’s team had initially looked down on Zhao Li. However, after seeing his daily training regimen, they wisely kept their mouths shut. They were left with nothing but amazement—where did this young expert come from? Was he a graduate of some elite academy?

If the "instructors" who had trained Zhao Li heard that, they would have been furious. This was the fruit of their collective wisdom; how could the credit for such rigorous training be snatched away by those elite academies? Did all talent only come from such places?

Fortunately, while some thought it, no one dared to say it. Zhao Li often went to communicate with them, and others saw it and understood the reality.

"You seem to have settled in quickly," Kang Hongyuan said after observing a healthy-looking Zhao Li.

"Thanks to your guidance!" Zhao Li was always respectful toward his elders, even if they were prisoners. And after accessing the warden’s files and learning their true backgrounds, that feeling was even stronger.

Of the forty-plus people, besides Kang Hongyuan, Ban Yunchan, and Professor Hans, everyone else was a formidable expert. Even the weakest, Sanders, had been a Level 7 expert before his internal energy was sealed, and he was on the verge of breaking through to Level 8, where he would no longer fear firearms.

The others were even more impressive, with the vast majority being Level 8 experts, and several at Level 9, including the combat master Zhang Yinzhan.

Zhao Li had never imagined that Level 8 or 9 experts were so "common" that he could easily spar with them. Now that he knew, the scene from the temporary prison where he had taken them all down returned to his mind. Revisiting that memory made him quite happy.

It was a pity there was no testing equipment here; he didn't know where he stood in the outside world. As warden, he couldn't just pick fights with the guards. The old Zhao Li might have done it, but he was no longer that naive youth; he would never make such a mistake.

Everything was normal, work was on track, and everyone’s life was peaceful. The prison guards followed their routines, and there was nothing out of place. It seemed this calm life would continue indefinitely, with the only changes being the periodic rotation of a few guards.