It's a pity that Saike Stone in front of him is still a quiet corpse.
The face of the young prisoner was occupied by horrific wounds, and his original appearance could no longer be seen. Zhang Dianyu straightened up slowly, pulled out the clipboard under his arm, frowning and flipping through the pages to think.
The photos on this file are different from ordinary prison photos, and even the background is not a common height scale, but a blank space.
Although a photo doesn't represent anything, the extra second page of skill tables is Zhang Dianyu's unique secret.
All this seems to prove that Sike Stone is not simply dead, maybe he will have a way to return.
But the corpse in front of him didn't respond at all.
Zhang Dianyu pondered for a moment. A hearse would come back to take the body in the evening, and maybe he should have left Seikestone behind.
He walked to the door, and the guard saluted him, waiting for his order.
"Take that mortuary table—the innermost one—to my room, together with the bodies on it."
The guard was dumbfounded.
Zhang Dianyu was also shocked.
He thought the guard was a pixel villain, but at present, it seems that he recognized the wrong person...
The guard saluted again tremblingly, and walked to the depths of the morgue before Zhang Dianyu came up with any rescue method.
Zhang Dianyu had a bad premonition. But things have come to this, he decided to pretend not to hear the next rumors - if anyone insists on letting him hear, he should also consider whether it is best to spend the rest of his life in the confinement room.
The guard had already accepted the order, and there was no need for Zhang Dianyu to wait here any longer. He chose to leave the scene quickly and go back to the warden's office.
But when he stepped into the office building and passed the assistant's office, he couldn't help but fell silent when he looked at Benner.
Zhang Dianyu coughed: "Dr. Banner, have you eaten yet?"
The doctor looked a little confused: "Mr. Warden, there are still more than two hours before the dinner will be served."
But the restaurant in the prison has chefs preparing meals from morning to night. Prisoners can eat and have fun as long as they are not in prison. After all, the cafeteria is a large entertainment place that integrates fitness and relaxation.
It's just that apart from the 8 hours of sleeping in the prison, there is no separate confinement time.
Zhang Dianyu looked deeply at Dr. Banner: "But you can also eat in advance."
Banner was even more confused by the warden's sudden suggestion: "But I'm not hungry, Mr. Warden."
"It doesn't matter if you're not hungry," Zhang Dianyu said with a smile, "Who wouldn't like to eat?"
Banner: "..."
He knew what he had to do.
After all, Mr. Warden has always been moody, and from time to time he will lock people into the confinement room and stop the supply of meals. It was clearly a hint—or a threat.
Zhang Dianyu was also very anxious.
The guards were supposed to push the mortuary table over in a short time, so why didn't Banner leave quickly.
This Dr. Banner looks quite honest, and he is also a scholar. Unexpectedly, his brain circuit is not normal. Let him see the body of Saike Stone being transported, and he will start thinking about it again.
Zhang Dianyu looked at Banner, who stood up from his seat and answered with his head down, "Yes, Mr. Warden."
After speaking, he left the assistant room.
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
Although Dr. Banner obeyed his orders happily, something felt wrong. Fortunately, the result was exactly what he wanted, so there was no need to delve into it.
Zhang Dianyu returned to the sofa chair in the office, looked at the door frame missing a door, and thought about arranging a new job for the engineering team after finishing the construction on the opposite side—reinstalling the doors of the former employees in the prison.
Otherwise, it wouldn't be long before his guards might die from exhaustion, which would make his heart ache so badly that he couldn't breathe.
The guard who was ordered to move the mortuary table was fairly quick, and soon moved the mortuary table where Seikestone's body was parked into the warden's office.
"Where are you going to put him, sir?"
The warden's office is already crowded. Zhang Dianyu often wanted to rearrange this place, but was always delayed due to various reasons.
The guard, who came in through the application later, glanced at the warden's office in a panic, then quickly lowered his head. But his eyes would still involuntarily glance at the door frame, as if he was thinking about something.
Zhang Dianyu noticed the strangeness of the guard.
He also thought of Bartholomew Joyce, another former guard currently in a padded brig with a mental illness.
These later guards were as much a factor of restlessness as the prisoners. So all along, he rarely summoned them to do things. Most of their requirements will also be met—for example, when the guards are busy opening the door recently, they can also guarantee basic sleep. Those who are so busy that they are about to die suddenly are the first batch of pixel villains.
Still, among them came Joyce.
Zhang Dianyu frowned slightly.
Judging from the reaction of the guard transporting the morgue, his mental state seemed to have been shaken, and Zhang Dianyu felt a little worried about him.
He still doesn't know whether Joyce came after the ogre, or whether he was bewitched by him in the prison and broke his psychological defense.
So for the other guards, he needs to pay more attention.
Zhang Dianyu stood up, looked at the guard who was staring down at the ground for a while, and slowly pointed to the door behind him: "Move it into my room."
Dr. Banner will always return to the assistant's room after dinner. After all, he only needs to go to work when he sleeps for 8 hours a day.
Generally, no one would come and go in Zhang Dianyu's room. Putting the mortuary table and the Seikestone in his room could avoid other people's eyes and ears.
The guard swallowed uncontrollably. In the quiet office, the rolling sound of his throat was quite loud.
Zhang Dianyu looked at him.
"Your name is?"
The guard seemed to resist, but he didn't dare not answer, so he could only whisper, "Frank Anderson."
"Okay, Frank." Zhang Dianyu said, "Move the mortuary table in - talk to Doctor Strange later, and tell me that I let you go."
Anderson froze for a moment, then nodded: "Yes, Mr. Warden."
Zhang Dianyu's room is not big. To be exact, it used to be the accounting office. When initially planning the office area, except for the warden’s office, which wasted some space, the others’ offices were obviously only the minimum value required in the game settings.
This room is only 4x4 in size, Zhang Dianyu also placed a desk and a bed in it, and the remaining space is just enough for a mortuary table, leaving only a narrow aisle.
Anderson didn't dare to raise his head. After putting the mortuary table in, he immediately came out and saluted Zhang Dianyu: "Sir, the mortuary table has been sent to the place you ordered."
He still didn't dare to look into Zhang Dianyu's eyes, so Zhang Dianyu confirmed that there might be something wrong with him.
Dr. Strange has been very dedicated recently, and he wrote an application on the second day of taking up the job, asking Zhang Dianyu to add the tool board needed for the Rorschach test, as well as items such as the medicine cabinet, which made Zhang Dianyu feel a bit of heartache.
While the few inmates who had turned mentally ill seemed to be doing better, it would have cost too much money.
But in the long run, this is indeed a good thing-for example, when Zhang Dianyu began to suspect that the guard's mental state was not healthy, Dr. Strange should be able to help him out of the predicament.
After all, those few mental illnesses can see the effect of treatment, and this guard is not sick yet, but he seems to be under some inexplicable pressure psychologically, which makes him look suspicious.
Zhang Dianyu tried his best to show a gentle smile to the guard.
Although he prefers the first batch of pixel villains, they cannot be reproduced. He should also accept these new employees, try to meet their requirements, and let them work hard-otherwise his pixel villains will be exhausted.
The guard hurriedly returned a salute, and quickly left the warden's office.
After walking out of the office building, he took a deep breath, and there was a smell of too much freedom in the air. He could see the corner of the cafeteria, and there were prisoners beating others in the sun.
He drew his baton and walked over, with the other hand on the stun gun.
"What are you doing - stand by the wall, face to the wall, and turn your hands behind your back!"
The prisoners stopped fighting, turned around dejectedly, and stretched out their hands with their backs to him.
Fighting in prison is subject to two hours of guarded confinement—meaning being handcuffed to restrict movement. Although there is no need to suffer mental torture in a confinement room, it is definitely not a good thing to be restricted in a prison surrounded by big men.
He handcuffed the three fighting prisoners, but one of them seemed unconvinced and licked his lips defiantly, with some unpleasant hints.
Guard Anderson ignored the prisoner's behavior—the other party didn't make a substantial move, and he couldn't beat him back. In fact, he was originally just a security guard in a chemical factory.
But the place where he worked was blown up during a super criminal hunt, and he was just a retired country boy who had been in the army for a few years, and he didn't know anyone from either side.
Later, he found his boss and negotiated the compensation. It was the enterprise damage control under the joint management of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark Industries.
Then he retired.
The boss didn't plan to rebuild the factory. Hearing that he planned to take the money to settle down in the town, Anderson felt confused.
He saw the recruitment information in the newspaper, and heard that being a prison guard would include food and lodging, and the salary seemed to be quite considerable, so he packed his luggage and crossed a state to apply here.
The interview went well, and he stayed here to become a prison guard, working 24 hours a day.
This is nothing, he is not afraid of hard work. Only occasionally when it was his turn to rest, lying on the bed, he would always hear the nearby guards whispering, exchanging gossip that had been widely circulated recently.
Mostly about the warden.
He only saw the warden once, on the day he came for the interview. Perhaps because it was a private prison, he looked much younger than Anderson's impression of government officials, and he looked less aggressive.
That's a boon for prison guards—it means prisoners don't want to cause too much trouble, and their jobs are made a lot easier.
But later, when he lived in the staff dormitory and gradually heard the gossip that was widely circulated among his colleagues, he realized that the unsmiling and handsome young man was a real monster.
His colleagues are careful every day, hoping to live until the day when the contract expires - this does not seem to be easy, just a few days ago, because the warden suddenly replaced all the staff doors with prison doors, they His sleep time was suddenly cut in half.
Finally, someone couldn't bear it anymore and made a request to the safety supervisor, wanting to guarantee the final rest time.
The head of security conveyed his opinion to Mr. Warden. They all thought that the guard would not live long, but unexpectedly his request was passed by the warden.
But everyone still thinks he won't live long—it's just that no one is talking about it.
Anderson didn't understand why the warden asked him to see Dr. Strange this time—the new psychiatrist, whose hands seemed to have been seriously injured, so that he knew that being a psychiatrist here required facing clowns and cannibals Demon, and jumped into the fire pit on his own initiative.
In the staff dormitory, before going to bed occasionally, someone made a bet on how long it would take for Dr. Strange to die.
Anderson didn't make a bet, not because of anything else. He used to save every penny, hoping to return to his hometown to open a small shop when the prison guard contract expired.
Doctor Strange's office is in the psychiatric ward.
Anderson didn't dare to ignore Mr. Warden's orders. He walked through the path below the dormitory in Block B, and walked from the new office building to the psychiatric ward above.
Although many mentally ill were detained here, they were not isolated from other prisoners—fortunately, he was not on duty here.
The prison uniforms of mentally ill prisoners are different from those of ordinary prisoners. Ordinary prisoners will wear light orange, dark orange, and dark red prison uniforms according to their sentencing, while mentally ill criminals wear off-white jumpsuits, which are very easy to identify.
Anderson went into the psychiatric ward.
A mental patient flew past him, holding a stack of prison uniforms in his hands, and kept making strange screams.
He had heard that a lot of mental patients in prisons like to steal clothes - so people dare not take clothes off and put them on their beds during the day, otherwise when you want to wear them, it may already be under some mental patient's bed.
After all, in prison, mental patients are not even treated any differently from other people. They are also given a lot of free time during the day and can freely enter and exit any room. And because the mentally ill can't arrange prison labor, they hang out even more time than ordinary prisoners.
So much so that normal people throughout the prison are nervous about their clothes.
A man in the uniform of a turquoise paramedic came after him panting, a tranquilizer in his hand.
"Stop him!"
Anderson glanced at the mentally ill prisoner who ran past, ran up to catch up, pushed him to the ground, and handcuffed him.
The nurse rushed over, ignored him, pushed him away and gave the prisoner a sedative.
Anderson asked, "Do you want me to help you get him back to the cell?"
The nurse paused for a moment, then looked over in shock: "You are... sorry, you were wearing a guard's clothes, and when you entered the door, you said that the warden sent you here. I thought you were that kind of person."
Anderson felt strange: "That kind of person?"
The nurse stared at him, opened his mouth, then carefully looked left and right, and then pulled his skirt to let him get closer: "Those warden's 'confidants', thoughtless puppets."
Anderson's eyes widened.
The nursing staff stopped talking, because someone knocked on the iron railing in the psychiatrist's office behind: "Nursing, open the door."
"Doctor, please wait a moment." The nurse raised her voice, then looked at Anderson beside her, "That's the Doctor Strange you're looking for, go and open the door for him."
Anderson looked at the psychiatrist standing indifferently behind the iron railing. He was not very old, but his temples were already graying, and his hand holding a patient's medical record was scarred and seemed to be trembling.
It was for these reasons that he had to come here as a psychiatrist.
In any other prison—or hospital—it would be impossible to work in such an office without even having access.
Just a few days ago, Mr. Warden inexplicably began to implement high-pressure control. All the rooms were installed with prison doors that conformed to the specifications of the cells. Even the employees were treated like prisoners at this time.
But if you think about it from another angle, it may not have been the same in the past.
As the nurse dragged the unconscious prisoner away, Anderson stood up and walked to the psychiatrist's office.
"Doctor, Mr. Warden sent me here."
Doctor Strange looked at him and nodded slightly: "What's the matter?"
"Mr. Warden thinks I might need some," Anderson tried to recall. "Counseling?"
"What?" Strange said blankly, "Have you ever thought of eating people recently?"
Anderson was dumbfounded.
Why does he have the idea of eating people...
Seeing the doctor's unsurprised expression, he suddenly felt a trace of panic.
Everyone knows about Mr. Warden's secret relationship with prisoner Sikestone, but is that the real reason Mr. Warden asked him to send Sikestone's body to his room
I heard that Mr. Warden just interrogated the ogre in the prison, Hannibal Lecter not long ago.
As we all know, Lecter is no ordinary serial killer who kills his victims to cook them up simply because it's the best part of them.
Mr. Warden seems to enjoy torturing these demented killers. Although from a normal person's point of view, no one would complain about the ogre and the clown, it doesn't mean that the warden's behavior is normal.
Anderson felt he was running out of brains.
He had seen the news, but his simple mind couldn't understand the ogre's theory. The only thing he knows is that Mr. Warden has formulated many cruel regulations against ogres, and there may be some special reasons in it.
Was the ogre giving Mr. Warden some sort of hint? Make him want to kill the ogre when he fights these thoughts
But judging from the way Sikestone lay in the warden's room, Mr. Warden may have failed.