Chapter Ninety-Four: The Black Prison

"Where is this place?" Qin Yang shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Before him was a room of about twenty square meters, furnished with the utmost simplicity: a bed, a desk set, and a bookshelf lined with dozens of books—at a glance, all classics. Overhead, a single incandescent bulb swung gently, while the door was a barred iron gate opening onto a quiet corridor outside. No lights. No sign of life.

"I have a piece of good news and a piece of bad news for you. Which would you like to hear first?" the butler asked in a languid tone.

"Cut the crap. Just spit it out," Qin Yang replied, sitting on the bed, his head still heavy and clouded.

"Alright then. The good news is, there’s a cemetery nearby, so there are plenty of souls for you to absorb. The bad news is, unless something unexpected happens, you’ll be spending a long time here," the butler teased.

Qin Yang rolled his eyes. "Are you mocking me?"

"Enough, Qin Yang. The anesthetics in your body have just worn off—you’d best rest and not overuse your mind," Yu Wen Rou Nu said softly. "After you lost consciousness, a group brought you here. I don’t know the exact location either."

He gave a bitter laugh as he noticed his clothes had been changed to an all-black outfit. "They actually left my jade pendant. Butler, after all your rambling, you still haven’t told me where this is."

"I don’t know either. All I know is, it’s an underground prison. Open your Yin-Yang Eyes and see for yourself," the butler suggested.

Qin Yang nodded silently and activated his Yin-Yang Eyes. Looking around, he found dozens of rooms much like his own in the vicinity, each holding a single occupant. Some were reading, some sitting in meditation, some training with their fists. Beyond that, his vision failed him. Raising his gaze, he saw a sizable courtyard surrounded by many buildings, with prisoners in black uniforms moving about and guards patrolling. In the distance, forests could be made out in a blur. Then his eyes landed on the four massive characters over the prison gate, and he couldn’t help but curse aloud, "Damn Xining Prison! I’m a hundred meters underground in a dark cell? Shit! Damn you, Jiangnan Yan!"

"Just adapt. Since you’re here, you might as well settle in," the butler said softly.

"Settle in? Who could find peace in this place?" Qin Yang grumbled in annoyance.

Just then, the cell door swung open. A group of guards passed by, calling out, "Activity time! Same old rules, everyone, please cooperate."

Suspicious, Qin Yang stepped out. The corridor was paved with dark stone bricks, with doors set every twenty meters. Each door now produced an inmate, all dressed in black like himself. Some lounged lazily, others were lively and energetic, a few smoked with a copy of "Journey to the West" in hand, calling out, "Hey, guys, how do you read this word?"

The most galling scene was a guard casually setting his gun aside to distribute cigarettes among the emerging prisoners, handing one to Qin Yang as well.

"Thanks," Qin Yang said, lighting up. He pulled the guard aside. "Brother, I’ve just arrived—can you fill me in?"

"Eh? You’re the newcomer, Qin Yang. I almost forgot," the guard replied. "This is Black Prison, a facility for special inmates. You can walk around freely, just don’t enter the restricted areas. If you’re hungry, there’s a kitchen at the end of the hall. Want to read, work out, or go online? Equipment’s near the canteen. Oh, and you’ll need to collect your daily necessities later."

"What kind of prison is this?" Qin Yang stared in disbelief.

The guard wasn’t surprised by his reaction—he just smiled and walked away.

"You must be Qin Yang?" At that moment, a man of about thirty stepped out from the neighboring cell. His features were sharply chiseled, and his bearing spoke of a military background. Yet what truly caught Qin Yang’s eye was his powerful, commanding stride—this man was a genuine master.

"That’s me," Qin Yang replied, puzzled. "Where exactly is this place?"

"Black Prison—the darkest prison in all China. Isn’t it dark enough for you?" the man jested.

Qin Yang took a deep drag from his cigarette and gave a wry smile. "The darkness I imagine is twisted by human nature, not just the environment. Honestly, this place doesn’t live up to the name Black Prison. With a name like that, anyone would think it holds the nation’s most dangerous and inhuman criminals."

"If there’s anyone here who truly fits that bill, Qin Yang, you’d top the list," the man laughed heartily.

"Why’s that?"

"There are one hundred and twenty-six inmates in Black Prison. Seventeen are here for murder. But according to the records, you’re the only one who’s killed more than thirty people," the man said, his expression odd. He didn’t add that Qin Yang was also the youngest among them—he couldn’t fathom how this youth found the courage to kill so many, or how he’d ended up here.

"Is it really that bad?" Qin Yang asked with a bitter smile.

"It is," the man replied, extending his hand. "I’m Dongfang Hao. Come on, as your neighbor, let me show you around Black Prison."

"Thanks."

According to Dongfang Hao, the entire Black Prison covered roughly the size of two football fields. Half was for housing inmates and their activity areas; the other half was a restricted zone off-limits to prisoners and even to guards without proper clearance. The guard who’d handed out cigarettes was one of the latter—he’d been here only three months and needed to build rapport with the inmates.

The activity area boasted a gym, library, internet café, canteen, bathhouse, and unbelievably, a karaoke room and a cinema. According to Dongfang Hao, even global film premieres were screened here, and without needing to buy a ticket.

"The state built a place like this just for us to enjoy ourselves?" Qin Yang asked, bewildered.

"Enjoy ourselves?" Dongfang Hao smiled bitterly. "Do you know the greatest wish of every inmate here?"

"What is it?"

"To see the sunrise and sunset—just once."

"Sunrise and sunset?" Qin Yang fell silent. For these men, those four words meant nothing less than freedom.

Dongfang Hao waved away the gloom. "Enough of that. You’ve been unconscious for a while—let’s get you something to eat. The food here rivals any five-star hotel’s, and best of all, the head chef is an absolute beauty."