Chapter Thirty: Observing Each Other (Part One)

Shattered Space-Time without Pop-Ups

To be honest, Zhao Li was more than a little nervous during his first official shift. It was only natural; no matter how outstanding he’d been in basic training, dealing with such a scene was a first for him, and a bit of awkwardness was hardly a big deal.

Still, Zhao Li had assumed from the outset that these dangerous criminals were aggressive, so his immediate reaction was to grip his T-shaped baton tightly. The veteran wardens seemed to be watching the spectacle with deliberate amusement, showing no sign of stepping in to help—just as the old warden had warned. Everyone serving here had at least three years’ experience in special forces; Zhao Li, a newcomer suddenly assigned to such a critical department, was bound to attract suspicion. The old warden hadn’t told anyone why Zhao Li had been “transferred” here, so it was only natural that the others would be a little standoffish.

A few prisoners approached, stopping at a certain distance—was this their way of testing him? They stood there joking, laughing as they watched Zhao Li, their laughter clearly directed at him.

But there’s no rule against laughing in prison. Even knowing they were provoking him for sport, Zhao Li could only suppress his anger. Disciplining them was one thing, but getting himself into trouble wasn’t worth it. He was a warden, not a gangster.

He relaxed his grip a little, still standing his ground. These men were dangerous, so even when letting down his guard, he kept the baton in hand. Zhao Li took several deep breaths, activating his basic fitness technique, circulating his energy through his body.

The basic fitness technique was, indeed, the finest foundational skill. Within a minute or two, Zhao Li felt much calmer. He stood, locking eyes with the men who had approached, then stepped forward, following the direction Jiang Hao had taken just moments before.

Seeing him walk away, the group erupted in boisterous laughter, tossing out taunts like “coward.” Zhao Li ignored them, beginning his patrol along the assigned route. The nearby wardens glanced at him, surprised by his youth.

This was his first time inside, and he hadn’t yet seen the full layout. A garden, designed in a classical style, caught him off guard. If even such things existed here, Zhao Li wouldn’t be surprised to learn the special prison included five-star suites.

The prison wasn’t large; including staff quarters, it was no bigger than a drilling platform. The natural freshwater sea was too precious to pollute, so the facility must have been built atop a reef—a remarkable feat for the military.

The garden was small, surrounded by concealed sentry posts. The entrance was from outside, separated by a transparent barrier that allowed direct observation but kept prisoners apart. Only two or three people patrolled inside. Clearly, Zhao Li’s assignment here was intentional.

Beyond the garden was the prisoners’ rest area. The door was open, and Zhao Li, baton in hand, strolled inside. As his figure disappeared, a pair of aged, piercing eyes watching from afar withdrew, nodding imperceptibly before turning away.

The rest area was much tidier. What unsettled Zhao Li was that each room resembled a hotel suite, while his own “pigeon cage” was little more than a metallic shed awaiting decoration. Compared to these cells, his quarters were a mere tool room.

He felt a pang of injustice, but recalling Jiang Hao’s words, he remembered that everyone here outranked him—even the prisoners. He wasn’t required to obey their orders, but proper respect was essential. The inmates here were clearly no ordinary criminals.

The men who had gathered earlier were tall and imposing, clearly fierce types. Zhao Li had memorized their features; they seemed simple-minded, which made them easier to handle. The ones who watched quietly from a distance, their eyes sharp and calculating, were likely the real troublemakers.

As a warden, Zhao Li would have access to their files; once he understood their backgrounds, he could devise strategies to deal with them.

Each prisoner had their own room; whether they cleaned themselves or there were staff assigned, Zhao Li preferred to believe the former. The prison staff numbered only a dozen or so, with no one likely assigned solely to housekeeping.

The staff were probably split into three shifts, rotating every eight hours. The planet’s rotation was longer than Earth’s, so Zhao Li would need to adapt. Fortunately, his basic fitness technique prevented insomnia and jet lag.

For his first patrol, he managed to look the part. In a facility of this level, escape was virtually impossible. With their abilities sealed, even if the prisoners overcame all the wardens, how could they cross the thousand-kilometer sea? The single-person flight devices required voiceprint activation.

After making a circuit, Zhao Li had a rough grasp of the place. He counted forty-seven inmates, nearly all male. About a dozen were meditating in their rooms; the rest strolled in the small garden. Most were robust, with only one middle-aged man in a wheelchair, both legs crippled.

On his patrol route, Zhao Li encountered a door that required a warden’s card to pass. Behind it was something that surprised him—a women’s cell. Was a male warden supposed to manage a female prisoner?

Upon closer inspection, he found only one female inmate, young and rather ordinary-looking. Assigning several female wardens for one prisoner seemed unnecessary; military personnel cared little about gender during training, and separating her from the male inmates was already a privilege.

The entire circuit took less than forty minutes, and Zhao Li had been thorough and leisurely. Usually, two people patrolled, submitting inspection results at each checkpoint. It seemed relaxed, but was actually quite strict.

All along the way, Zhao Li encountered no friendly faces—only mocking smiles, sinister stares, or outright disregard, as though he were invisible.

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