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

Lin Feng knew perfectly well that this guy had absolutely no evidence.

That's why he was running around like a headless fly, even resorting to the prisoner's dilemma trick to scare him.

If there were real evidence, why would they be wasting time talking nonsense here?

"Sir, what is that? What did I take?"

I've been here since yesterday, and apart from the prison uniform and toiletries I was given, I haven't touched anyone else's things.

Will's anxiety intensified as he looked at Lin Feng's innocent expression.

But you can't directly mention guns, so you have to stop playing dumb.

He growled, "Hand it over, now."

He suddenly pulled out his baton and slammed it heavily on the iron table, making a loud clanging sound.

"Sir, I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

Lin Feng continued to play dumb;

"I'm asking you one last time: pay it, or not?"

Will raised his baton, his eyes turning dangerous.

"Sir, I don't know what happened, how am I supposed to explain?"

"court death!"

Will's last shred of reason was consumed by rage.

He swung his baton and smashed it hard against Lin Feng's shoulder.

Lin Feng appeared to panic and dodged backward, his movements somewhat clumsy, but he managed to avoid the first heavy blow from the police baton.

In the cramped interrogation room, Will chased after him, swinging his fists.

While seemingly dodging in a disheveled manner, Lin Feng skillfully adjusted his position.

Finding the blind spot, Lin Feng suddenly attacked, his right fist gathering power, moving with lightning speed and leaving an afterimage as it precisely struck Will's upper right abdomen, liver area.

The internal energy penetrates the muscles like a fine needle, reaching directly into the internal organs.

Will felt as if he had been pricked by a needle under his right rib.

He let out a muffled groan, his movements instantly faltered, and the baton missed its mark.

He assumed he had twisted his ankle from the sudden movement and didn't immediately connect it to Lin Feng.

Just as he was enduring the excruciating pain and still wanted to continue chasing and beating Lin Feng.

boom!

The interrogation room door was pushed open.

Three people were standing at the door.

In the middle is a tall female prison guard.

With short blond hair, big eyes, and a baby face, she looks very alluring in her police uniform.

The armband indicated that she was a mid-level correctional officer and also one of the correctional officers in this ward, Selena.

On the left is prison doctor Elizabeth Sarah, and on the right is a fellow prison guard.

Selena's gaze swept over Will, who was holding a baton, and then looked at Lin Feng, who was standing in the corner in handcuffs. She understood.

Her face instantly darkened. "Will, what are you doing? I need an explanation."

Will put down his baton, stood at attention, and saluted: "Sir, I have a few simple questions."

Selena glared at him.

The job of a prison guard involves long-term exposure to a highly stressful and violent environment, disrupted work and rest schedules, fragile family relationships, and a high risk of being cheated on.

It's the same for men and women.

The staff suffers from severe emotional exhaustion, immense psychological stress, and a high turnover rate.

Therefore, management usually turns a blind eye to minor actions as long as they don't cause a major incident or leave behind irreparable evidence.

However, the premise is that it cannot be put on the table, cannot leave irrefutable evidence, and especially cannot be done recklessly in places with surveillance cameras.

Will not only tortured two Chinese prisoners in succession, but this time it happened in an interrogation room that was basically covered by surveillance cameras.

To make matters worse, Dr. Sarah came to complain in person.

On the way to this interrogation room, Selena was still defending Will.

"Will may have lost control of his emotions due to the sudden death of his partner Robinson."

"He was a former Navy SEAL who suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder after retiring and is prone to emotional outbursts."

However, Sarah knew Will; six months ago, he was involved in a lawsuit for causing the unnatural death of a prisoner due to excessive use of force.

But with Sarah around, Selena still spoke in a serious tone:

"Will, given your recent emotional state and the related complaints, I believe you are currently unfit to continue performing your duties."

You will be suspended from your post for three days.

Hand over your access card and police equipment, go back and write a detailed incident report, reflect on your actions, and await further instructions.

Now, leave this place.

Will had no objections and straightened his posture: "Yes, sir."

He didn't leave immediately, but turned to Sarah, clutching his right abdomen, a pained expression on his face: "Dr. Sarah, I... I feel very uncomfortable in my stomach. I may have moved too violently just now."

Could you please check this for me?

Sarah had already seen through his trick and believed that he was just trying to gain sympathy.

She declined in a businesslike manner: "Officer Will, the prison medical facility has limited equipment and is mainly used to handle the emergency medical needs of prisoners."

Regarding your discomfort, I suggest that after you leave prison, you contact your family doctor or go to a specialist clinic for a detailed examination.

There are more advanced facilities there.

Will said, "You might have to wait a week or two to get a doctor's appointment, and by then, the minor ailment might have healed on its own."

"Just take a quick look at it for me, that would be fine."

Sarah remained unmoved, her tone even carrying a hint of sarcasm: "Since you yourself know it might be a minor ailment, then go back and rest, and take some painkillers."

For example, ibuprofen or Tylenol would be fine.

Will was rebuffed and knew that continuing the argument would only make things worse.

He glared hatefully at Lin Feng, who had no expression.

After Will left, Selena finally turned her attention to Lin Feng.

I could tell at first glance that this Chinese prisoner was no ordinary person.

She was younger and calmer than she had imagined.

There was no fear, anger, or resentment typical of prisoners facing violence from prison guards; only a bottomless indifference.

Selena asked, "Are you alright?"

Lin Feng shook his head: "I'm fine, sir."

Sarah stepped forward: "Selena, to make sure there are no internal injuries and to avoid any potential complaints later, I suggest taking him to the infirmary for a simple check-up."

Selena nodded: "Okay, you can take him."

Upon entering the medical room, Sarah had Lin Feng lie on the bed for an examination.

She took out her stethoscope and lifted Lin Feng's prison uniform.

Beneath the prison uniform, clearly defined and well-proportioned muscles were visible, without exaggerated bulges, yet exuding a restrained sense of power, without a single ounce of excess fat.

There isn't even the slightest flaw.

She subconsciously extended her index finger and gently pressed the area above Lin Feng's pectoral muscles; the touch was firm.

Lin Feng looked up at her: "Doctor, is this also part of the examination?"

Sarah paused slightly, smiled faintly, but quickly regained her professional demeanor: "Oh, yes, check muscle tension and body fat percentage, as these can also reflect your physical condition."

After a quick examination and putting away the stethoscope, I said, "Your body is very healthy, the best I've ever seen. There are absolutely no problems."

Then he said, "Lin, I heard you are very strong?"

"In the laundry room, one person handled eight?"

Lin Feng got off the examination bed. "How come I didn't know such a thing existed?"

Seeing his denial, Sarah was not discouraged. Instead, she smiled and threw out a bait: "If you can prove it."

I can consider issuing you a certificate stating that your physical condition is unsuitable for manual labor.

Lin Feng straightened his clothes and looked at Sarah. "If there's nothing else, may I go back?"

Sarah paused for a moment, then said, "Yes, you can go back now."

If you feel unwell, please come to the medical room immediately.

"Thank you, doctor." Lin Feng nodded slightly, turned and left the medical room.

Watching Lin Feng's figure disappear at the end of the corridor, Sarah's curiosity was not only not resolved, but increased.

She went to the monitoring room and requested to view the surveillance footage of the laundry room during the conflict period.

Although the video is not visible, the audio is clear.

Sarah turned up the volume.

Painful screams and the distinct "clicking" sound of dislocated joints could be heard from inside the laundry room.

Even without visuals, it's enough to send chills down your spine, indirectly confirming the statements of those Black prisoners.

They endured inhuman torture, and the perpetrator, Lin Feng, likely possessed an exceptional understanding of human joints, employing precise and ruthless techniques.

Could it really be Chinese Kung Fu?

Lin Feng's image became shrouded in an even more mysterious veil in her mind.

Sarah showed no sympathy for the Black people, after all, they were the ones who started the trouble.

After dinner, it's time to let people out for some fresh air.

The sun was shining brightly; some prisoners were playing half-court basketball, while many more were strolling around the barbed wire fence.

When Lin Feng appeared at the entrance of the square, a subtle change in atmosphere quietly occurred.

The black prisoners avoided eye contact, barely daring to meet Lin Feng's gaze.

The prisoners of other races, whether Latino or white, looked at Lin Feng with a mixture of awe, suspicion, and provocation, but none of them dared to cause trouble.

The incident in the laundry room today has spread like wildfire throughout the entire prison.

Lin Feng established his position in a very short time using the most primitive and violent methods.

Ignoring the stares around him, Lin Feng found a relatively quiet corner on the steps and sat down.

Not long after, four white prisoners walked toward him.

Lin Feng glanced at them out of the corner of his eye and recognized them. Three of them were the white people who had been watching from the entrance of the laundry room.

"What's up?"

Surprisingly, the four white men did not show any hostility.

The one in the lead had a tattoo of Jesus bound to a cross on his forehead.

The other three stood behind him.

"Hey, Lin." The white man with a tattoo on his forehead spoke, his voice low and carrying a slickness typical of the streets.

"Relax, bro, we're not here to cause trouble."

He grinned, extended his hand, and said, "My name is Kevin."

Lin Feng didn't even lift his eyelids.

Seeing that Lin Feng ignored him, he continued, "I admire people with ability."

"Interested in following me?"