Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Strange Prisoner (Part Two)

“This one is James, a flight specialist and fighter pilot. During a mission, he bombed residential areas and hospitals, resulting in at least eleven hundred casualties. The military court sentenced him to life imprisonment. At the time, he was fully aware it was not a designated target zone; records show he was perfectly lucid during the attack, with a heart rate never exceeding eighty beats per minute.”

“Sanders, you know him as well—firearms instructor for the African Special Operations Unit. He killed people while on a mission and was sentenced to life by the military court.”

“Jack, a close-combat expert, specialized in military knives and bayonets. While on leave, he got into an argument at a nightclub and killed forty-seven people, including staff and security guards. When apprehended, he showed slight traces of alcohol and stimulants. The military court gave him life as well.”

...

Each time they passed someone, a quiet introduction was given. Sometimes, the people being discussed seemed not to care, indifferent to the mention of their deeds. Some would nod slightly, as if to acknowledge their “glorious achievements.” Most, however, only looked back with cold eyes, their thoughts unreadable.

One would have thought these people’s crimes were no more than a handful of murders, but to his shock, the lowest “score” among them was more than thirty, and that was barehanded. As for those who had used weapons, their deeds were even more terrifying—James, for instance, had slaughtered over eleven hundred people with apparent ease, treating human lives as mere numbers.

“My surname is Kang—Kang Hongyuan!” When they came to an elderly white-haired man, before Jiang Hao could introduce him, Kang Hongyuan stepped forward with a jovial self-introduction. Among all the people present, he stood out as the most unusual. This unexpected warmth made Zhao Li uneasy, especially after witnessing how the others behaved.

“Young man, you performed well the other day! An excellent soldier!” Kang Hongyuan said with a beaming smile. Whether he meant it or was just flattering him, Zhao Li couldn’t tell. He had never encountered such a situation before, and for a moment, he was at a loss for how to respond. After all, being praised by someone old enough to be his grandfather—or even older—was something he wasn’t used to.

“Well done, keep it up!” As he spoke, Kang Hongyuan placed a hand gently on Zhao Li’s shoulder and patted it. There was no force in the touch; it was fitting, and his palm was warm, the gesture surprisingly pleasant.

For some reason, this approach did not arouse Zhao Li’s suspicion in the slightest. On the contrary, he found himself agreeing with Kang Hongyuan’s words, as if it was only natural to follow his lead. Even being patted on the shoulder felt natural and unthreatening. Had it been anyone else, Zhao Li’s instincts would have instantly warned him, but with this old man, there was no trace of hostility—truly remarkable.

It wasn’t until Zhao Li and Jiang Hao had left the area that Zhao Li realized what had happened and was astonished by the old man’s effect on him. “Brother Jiang, what kind of martial arts does Kang Hongyuan practice? How can he make people let down their guard so easily?” Zhao Li and Jiang Hao were close by now, with Jiang Hao insisting he not be called “Officer Jiang.”

“Him?” Jiang Hao glanced back at Kang Hongyuan, who was still smiling their way, and let out a sigh. “Ah!”

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Li was puzzled by Jiang Hao’s reaction.

“He only arrived last month, along with the disabled man and the female inmate,” Jiang Hao explained slowly. “All three are very unusual. This Kang Hongyuan, apart from some basic civilian exercises, hasn’t trained in any martial arts at all. To be honest, he’s nothing more than a frail old man.”

“What?” Zhao Li’s eyes widened. “Frail old man? Him?” He couldn’t believe it; he’d assumed the prison warden’s lowest-ranked inmate would be the woman, Ban Yunchan, but it turned out to be this elderly man.

“Yes,” Jiang Hao replied offhandedly. “I’ve never seen anyone so strange. He has no strength whatsoever, yet somehow he gets along with everyone here. In just a month, not only has no one bullied him, but even the most dangerous inmates seem to look out for him.”

“What’s even more surprising is that even we guards get along with him. All these greetings you saw—those only started after this old man arrived. Before, everyone here was stubborn and unmanageable, and we frequently had to rely on force to keep order.”

Remarkable indeed—without any physical strength, he could still wield such influence. Was this man a born leader? Zhao Li couldn’t help glancing back at Kang Hongyuan. “Who is he, really? What did he do to end up here?”

“All I know is his name, Kang Hongyuan, and that he was apparently a politician. I don’t usually follow the news, so I’m not familiar—have you heard of him?” Jiang Hao was clearly unsure, his answer vague.

“No idea,” Zhao Li shook his head. “Aren’t there records in the criminal files?” He was even less interested in current affairs—apart from a few political parties and the name of the Federal Committee chairman, the rest was a blur to him.

“That’s classified. We can’t access that level of information—maybe only the warden knows.” Jiang Hao knew almost nothing about this mysterious prisoner.

“I see.” If it was classified, there was bound to be a reason. That was enough for Zhao Li. He said nothing more about Kang Hongyuan, and the two continued their patrol.

“Professor Hans, enjoying the sunshine?” Jiang Hao greeted the legless Mr. Hans. Zhao Li did the same and helped adjust Professor Hans’s position so he could sit more comfortably.

“Thank you.” Sensing the movement, Professor Hans looked up at Zhao Li and, seeing nothing amiss, offered a sincere word of gratitude before closing his eyes and muttering to himself.

“What’s he doing?” Zhao Li found it strange, unable to understand what Professor Hans was up to. He looked like a madman.

“Probably working through calculations for his research project,” Jiang Hao said dismissively, clearly used to it. “He’s a scientific lunatic—nobody knows what he did to get here. Just like Kang Hongyuan, he mutters to himself all day, claiming he can’t afford to waste research time. Ridiculous. Even here, he’s still thinking about research!”

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