Dawn was breaking.
Early-rising guards saw a horrifying scene.
A man in pajamas with a full beard was hanging upside down in mid-air, listless and deathly pale.
Confused guards were pointing and asking each other questions.
"What's this? What time is it? Aren't you changing shifts?" Casare came over with dark circles under his eyes, seeing a crowd gathered, speaking with a stern face.
Many guards hurried away, while others who had good relationships with him stayed.
"Supervisor Casare, who is this?" A guard with sergeant stripes offered a cigarette with a fawning expression.
Casare hesitated, but they'd know soon anyway. He took the cigarette and said quietly, "Olivier."
Afraid he wouldn't understand, he added, "He did what happened to Franz yesterday."
The sergeant's eyes immediately widened, but Casare didn't want to say more and walked away with hands behind his back. Looking at his retreating figure, the sergeant swallowed hard - this news was too shocking.
Within half an hour, almost everyone knew the person hanging in the yard was Olivier, and learned from someone informed that Deputy Warden Victor had personally led people to capture him.
And there had been intense gunfights.
Victor, already popular in the prison, gained another huge wave of approval.
"Did you have someone deliberately spread the word?" Best asked Casare quietly.
The latter was eating a chicken wrap, "When doing things, you have to be high-profile, or who knows you did it? If you hide everything, might as well not do anything. This is called political prestige, understand?"
Best admitted he was right, but being naturally cautious, he felt not all guards were convinced - some scum still cooperated with outside drug dealers.
Trouble might arise.
9 AM.
Victor appeared punctually in the yard. Casare had arranged 200 prisoners and 100 guards as "audience." Altiplano Prison had too many people - impossible to bring them all out.
Over 5,000 prisoners together could cause a real riot if they actually gathered.
Victor wasn't that crazy yet.
He just found some usual troublemakers to make an example.
These prisoners had been educated not to whisper now, but their eyes were full of anger, feeling their dignity was insulted.
Just as Victor was about to go up and say a few words, he saw Casare hurrying over, "Webster brought Pierluigi."
The name sounded familiar.
After thinking, he seemed to be one of two deputy directors of the Prison Management Bureau.
From what Alejandro meant, these two usually didn't get along well with him, but after he received commendations and promotions, the deputy directors became polite - maybe knowing he was leaving.
The position would be vacant.
Webster accompanied a sharp-looking middle-aged man who looked shrewd with hawk-like eyes - clearly not someone to mess with.
"What are you doing, Victor?" Pierluigi looked up at the hanging Olivier, frowning, "Privately punishing prisoners violates regulations."
"Sir, I'm illiterate, can't read regulations."
"But I know this is a drug dealer who tried to attack the prison yesterday to rescue prisoners. We caught him and I'm just teaching him a lesson."
"Attack? In pajamas? Are you joking, Victor?" Webster couldn't help interjecting.
"You can't shoot in pajamas? You go naked to women's houses to sit on sofas - don't think I don't know, sir!"
This nearly made others laugh out loud.
Webster's face turned red. Pierluigi gestured for him to stop talking, looked at Victor, stepped forward so they were very close, "I've heard of you, Victor. Your recent performance has been good, but sometimes don't be too serious. I know you follow Alejandro, but he's being transferred. Some things become uncertain."
Hearing this, Victor laughed, turned to look at Webster, "So you chose to side with him, right?" He checked his watch, "Sir, time's up. If you want to give speeches, perhaps you should go to a tavern - the strippers there will applaud you."
Pierluigi's eyebrow raised, showing anger. He reached out to grab Victor, but the latter threw a punch, hitting his left face directly. Pierluigi stumbled backward.
Victor went up and kicked him to the ground, still not satisfied. He delivered left and right hooks to Pierluigi, not going easy - immediately swelling his eyes like stones.
Grabbing Pierluigi's hair, Victor leaned close to his ear and said suppressively, "Sir! You have bad breath, what you're saying really annoys me. I hate people nagging the most!"
He forcefully smashed Pierluigi's head against a nearby table.
Bang!
He lay on the ground like a dead dog, face covered in blood.
The whole scene fell silent.
Webster's eyes widened - he couldn't believe Victor dared beat up a superior.
Wasn't a deputy director still a director?
"Have someone take him to the clinic. Medical expenses are on me."
Victor pulled out chocolate from his pocket, put it in his mouth. The sweetness instantly filled his brain, improving his mood considerably.
He looked at Webster, patted his face, "Warden, you make me very unhappy. You don't need to come tomorrow."
Reverse firing!
Of course he knew what Webster meant - nothing more than seeing his growing power and feeling he'd lose authority in the prison. He couldn't bear giving up this power and wanted Pierluigi to suppress him.
Wasn't this the filth within official careers?
A thirty-year veteran about to retire could still boss around newcomers.
Victor wouldn't indulge him.
If you have temper, shoot me.
If you don't, get lost.
As for dismissing him?
He'd just made the news, just got promoted - dismissing him now would be slapping their own faces.
As long as I'm lawless, no one can nag in my ear.
Even if dismissed, wasn't it just about stuffing money?
However much you want, come take it yourself!
Victor ignored Webster, stood with hands in pockets before guards and prisoners, "Gentlemen, I'll say one thing - outside I don't care, but in Altiplano Prison, prisoners are prisoners, guards are guards. If you think you have the strength, you can come challenge me."
"Also!"
Victor held up a finger, "Please respect the law."
As he lowered his finger and lit a cigarette, the rope holding Olivier in mid-air snapped, and he fell rapidly.
Have you seen a watermelon crack open?
Blood mixed with brains splattered on nearby prisoners' faces. Even criminals who'd killed countless people felt chills at this moment.
"Clean it up."
As guards tremblingly prepared to drive the silent prisoners back to cells, they saw Casare running over breathlessly.
"By the way, pay your sanitation fees today. Those who don't pay aren't allowed to use toilets tomorrow. Gentlemen, for the sake of your anuses, please don't forget."
...
Back in his office, Victor received a call from Alejandro, who immediately asked if Pierluigi had come to see him.
Victor didn't hide anything, "Yes, but I think you need to visit him at the hospital."
Alejandro asked, "What happened?"
"His face had an intimate encounter with my fist."
He could clearly feel the speechlessness on the other end.
"You hit him?!"
"He might take my position later. If you let him lose face, he'll definitely keep troubling you."
"No, he won't take your position, Alejandro. I said so."
"Hope you can always be this confident."
"You're calling me not just to say these things, right?" Victor took a drag of his cigarette, letting it circulate in his nasal cavity.
The other end fell silent, as if making some decision.
"Do you have arms connections? I need a batch of weapons."
"Cough cough cough..."
Hearing this, Victor choked, "Alejandro, are you going to fight someone?"
Politicians could just hit each other with water pipes.
Don't waste bullets.
Mainly afraid you won't pay.
This was important.
(End of Chapter)
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