Dual Transmigration: American Prison, Surviving to a Fantasy Development Stage

"Oh shit, Lin, are you even human?"

"Lin, go find those two bitches."

.....

The next morning, at the infirmary.

Prison doctor Elizabeth Sarah was dressed neatly.

She looked radiant, her blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail at the back of her head, and her figure under the white coat remained alluring. Her gaze towards Lin Feng became increasingly infatuated.

She walked to Lin Feng's bedside, pretended to pick up the record board and flip through it, "Lin, you're all better now."

"I feel a bit feverish."

"I can't help you with this," Sarah said, stepping back as if afraid Lin Feng would go crazy.

He then changed the subject, saying, "Your preliminary hearing and bail procedures are complete."

I just received notification that the court hearing will officially begin at 9:00 AM in three days.

She paused, her gaze falling on Lin Feng's face with a hint of businesslike sympathy: "According to procedure, and considering the previous 'irregular' detentions, you have indeed been illegally detained for too long, and the court will not allow you to continue to be detained."

Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he will be released in court during this hearing.

Lin Feng opened his eyes, his face showing no particular expression. He simply gave a faint "hmm," seemingly unsurprised by the news.

Seeing his expression, Sarah added, "Also, I'll apply for subsidies for you."

"A subsidy?"

"Yes." Sarah nodded, her tone serious. "If you are ultimately found not guilty, or if the case is dismissed due to insufficient evidence or serious procedural violations, you should theoretically receive some financial compensation for each day you were wrongfully detained."

According to the current state standard, it is approximately $1.25 per hour.

However, this process takes at least half a month to a month, and you probably won't receive it.

Upon hearing this, Lin Feng said, "It's alright, have them send it to the orphanage."

"Lin, you are so kind-hearted."

Sarah smiled and kissed Lin Feng again: "Okay, let's go have breakfast. The other colleagues have to go to work."

During morning exercise time, in the prison's small square.

Lin Feng remained seated in his usual spot, surrounded by a vacuum of space within a ten-meter radius.

He was eating sunflower seeds while basking in the sun.

In a distant corner, those Japanese soldiers were still being punished, their heads bowed.

Several prisoners nearby watched with schadenfreude and chuckled softly.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the square, a choir of more than a dozen Black prisoners was still practicing singing.

Led by the stick, they were singing loudly and energetically, swaying their heads:

"Sunshine, rainbow, little white horse....didi-didi-didi..."

"I am... I am... Sunshine Rainbow White Horse..."

The lyrics and melody are simple and repetitive.

But when these black men, who average over 1.85 meters tall, with muscular faces and many with tattoos and scars, sing, there is a strong contrast.

They sang with great enthusiasm.

This bizarre yet harmonious scene has become a regular feature of the prison's exercise time.

Even many prison guards were used to it, and occasionally they would grin and hum along.

However, this harmony has been broken today.

The two newly arrived Black prisoners had just been let into the plaza from the entrance by prison guards.

Both men were equally burly, with nearly shaved heads, fierce eyes, and a street-fighting dog-like aura as they walked; they were clearly not to be trifled with.

As soon as they entered the square, they were stunned by the deafening chorus of "Sunshine, Rainbow, Little White Horse".

Especially when I hear, "Um...I'm that one..."

My defenses crumbled instantly.

The pronunciation of that word sounds the same as "nigger" in English.

The two looked at each other and saw the same shock and anger in each other's eyes.

They could accept it if it were a white person, but the key point is that it was sung by a black person.

One of the older black men, with a hideous scar on his head, widened his eyes, pointed at the group of singing black men, and blurted out in disbelief, "Wardfa?"

What the hell are you doing?

Shut up, shut up, all of them shut up!

Another black man suddenly took a step forward and yelled at the group of singing black people, "Fuck you! Fuck you!"

Shut the hell up, all of you!

Fuck you, shut up.

Damn it, I'm going to kill you all!

The sudden roar and shouts silenced the noise in the square.

The Black singers stopped, turned around in unison to look at the two new troublemakers, and then continued singing.

The white prisoners around them immediately showed expressions of amusement, and many of them even whistled.

They knew that they were ordered to sing by Lin, the prison boss, and no one dared to disobey.

Lin Feng remained seated in his chair, not even lifting his eyelids, and continued eating sunflower seeds.

Matthew, the underling, immediately leaned close to Lin Feng's ear and whispered quickly:

"Boss, these two black guys were just brought in last night. They robbed a convenience store at gunpoint and injured the clerk."

Before coming in, they were supposedly all from underground boxing rings, with some real fighting skills and very bad tempers.

Lin Feng hummed in agreement, his gaze finally settling on the two of them.

"Let them sing along too."

Lin Feng's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air: "Before going out, you should learn some music to cultivate your character."

"Yes, boss!" Matthew immediately understood and straightened his back.

He turned around, winked at his eager underlings, and then waved his hand.

"Whoosh—"

Instantly, more than a dozen burly, predominantly white prisoners stood up.

They quickly and orderly dispersed, forming a loose encirclement that surrounded the two new black men in the middle.

These people were recently recruited by Matthew in Lin Feng's name, and can be considered as the peripheral forces indirectly controlled by Lin Feng in this prison.

Although their combat strengths varied, they had the advantage of having a large number of people.

Matthew stepped forward, hands on his hips, and said to the two new black men, "Hey, you two gorillas who haven't fully evolved yet."

"What are you yelling for? Get over there and stand still. If you don't want to get beaten up, sing along."

The two black men were taken aback at first, then flew into a rage.

When have they ever been provoked like this on the streets or in underground boxing rings?

Especially since they were openly insulted.

"Fuck you, I'll kill you!" The scarred old man's eyes flashed with ferocity as he stared intently at Matthew.

Another black man yelled at the group of singing black prisoners, "What the hell are you standing there for?"

"We're on the same side. Come on, let's take down these white pigs together."

They tried to win over Black people, thinking they could gain immediate support.

However, something happened that stunned them again.

They pretended not to hear and started singing in unison again, "Sunshine, rainbow, little white horse...didi-didi-didi..."

"I am... I am... Sunshine Rainbow White Horse."

"Oh God, has the world gone mad?" Scarface looked at the backs of the group of black men and was so angry that he was trembling.

Without another word, he growled and suddenly punched Matthew in the chin.

How could Matthew possibly be a match for a professional underground boxer?

He didn't even have time to react effectively; he only saw a dark shadow flash before his eyes and then fainted.

"Bang!"

He fell to the ground and didn't move.

"Well done!"

Old Black grinned maliciously, cracked his knuckles, and looked at the white prisoners who had surrounded him with a fierce glint in his eyes. "Anyone else want a taste of my fists?"

Scarface also assumed a boxing stance, his eyes scanning the area, searching for his next target.

However, they underestimated the weight of numbers in prison brawls, and also underestimated the ruthlessness of the prisoners.

"Damn it! They dared to lay a hand on me!"

"Get them!"

A dozen or so white prisoners shouted and rushed forward.

They might not be a match for a bare-knuckle boxer in a one-on-one fight, but at this moment they rushed forward without any strategy or regard for their own safety.

Although the two old black men were brave, they were instantly overwhelmed by the surging crowd.

Two fists can't beat four hands, and even a hero can't withstand a crowd.

Their skills were rendered useless in the cramped, chaotic melee, and they were quickly pinned to the ground.

Immediately afterwards, a barrage of punches, kicks, and insults rained down on them.

"Fuck you! You think you're so tough?!"

"Damn it, do you even know who's in charge here?"

"Kill them!"