NOVEL NEXT Chapter 28: Chapter 28
The bald prison bully was the most ruthless of the ruthless.
Even with excruciating pain, he used his strong physique to push the short-haired boy to the ground, strangling his neck.
In a life-or-death struggle, the short-haired boy resorted to his unique buttonhole technique.
The bald man's eyes bled, and he fell to his knees in agony.
The short-haired boy didn't stop there. He moved in and applied a direct naked choke, ending the bald man's life.
Still unsatisfied, the short-haired boy grabbed a pair of barbells and placed the bald man's head on the horizontal bar.
Lifting a 45-pound iron weight, he smashed it down with brutal force.
In moments, ketchup and tofu-like remains splattered across the floor.
The surrounding prisoners were stunned.
Some of the more timid ones vomited or fainted.
The short-haired boy, his face smeared with blood, approached a bearded man who appeared to be second-in-command.
"Any objections?" he asked coldly.
"N-no!" the bearded man stammered.
Many prisoners fled, realizing this was no place for small-time criminals like themselves.
From that moment on, no one dared to cross the short-haired boy.
"Hah…"
Lip exhaled deeply, taking several breaths to steady his racing heart.
The violent and shocking scene was far from child-friendly.
Lip thought to himself, "I never imagined people from the motherland could be so ruthless and fierce!"
But what did any of this have to do with wealth?
Was the system implying he should use his Bruce Lee martial arts inheritance to become a killer and earn rewards?
Before Lip could make sense of it, another image flooded his mind.
This time, another short-haired man appeared.
He was shirtless, getting a tattoo from a punk-style female artist.
"Can't I admire it just a little longer?"
"You're such an artist, Sid," she teased.
"Do you mean I'll leave here and never see this masterpiece again?"
"Most likely."
The man's tone was calm, devoid of emotion.
The scene shifted.
The short-haired man put on a red shirt and moved from a computer to a wall.
The wall was covered with photos, newspapers, documents, and handwritten notes.
He studied them intently, as if piecing together a puzzle.
The scene changed again—to a bank.
Wearing a khaki suit, the short-haired man fired three shots into the ceiling with a revolver.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
After arguing with the teller, the wailing sirens of federal police cars and the roar of helicopters echoed outside.
The man calmly raised his hands, surrendering his weapons.
The scene shifted to a courtroom.
The short-haired man didn't bother defending himself.
In the end, a female judge sentenced him to five years in Fox River, a maximum-security prison in Chicago.
He smiled faintly, as if the outcome had been expected.
Meanwhile, the female lawyer beside him looked sorrowful.
"Isn't that Michael?" Lip exclaimed at the sight of the familiar, handsome face.
"They're giving me Black Eater and Prison Break again. Do they want me to remake them? What's the system trying to tell me?"
Before he could question further, a third image appeared.
Lip heard a melodious bell chime, leading him to a church that seemed familiar.
Everything around moved in a time-lapse blur.
When the scene stabilized, Lip recognized the location.
"Wait—this is the Rockefeller Chapel!" Lip exclaimed.
The tallest building on the University of Chicago campus, the chapel was built between 1925 and 1928 by architect Bertram Goodhue.
It was donated by John D. Rockefeller, the oil tycoon and the world's first billionaire.
Lip's excitement grew. "Finally, something related to money!"
A flash of keys being placed in a box caught Lip's attention.
"Could these keys be the key?" Lip wondered.
The scene shifted again—to a massive farm.
Cowboys on horseback galloped to a cemetery, laid flowers, and bowed in respect before heading to the mountains.
The view changed once more, this time to a warehouse.
Lip squinted as a bright light blinded him momentarily.
When his vision cleared, he was stunned.
Stacks upon stacks of gold bricks—each weighing 12.5 kilograms—filled the warehouse.
Lip estimated there were about 80,000 bricks, equating to 1,000 tons of gold.
The underground vault of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York held only 8,300 tons.
This warehouse contained nearly one-eighth of that amount.
"This is insane! The system is too generous!"
Lip watched a hand stroke the gold bricks, moving toward a dark door.
At this point, the images ceased, and Lip's consciousness returned to reality.
"What's behind that black door?" Lip mused, his curiosity piqued. "It might be more important than the gold itself!"
He grinned mischievously. "Looks like my space bracelet will finally come in handy. Even one brick would set me for life, but why stop there?"
Despite his excitement, Lip began strategizing seriously.
The system wouldn't provide useless information. He needed to grow stronger and establish a powerful network, including people who could infiltrate prisons.
He also had to visit the Rockefeller Chapel soon to investigate further.
"Maybe I should even enroll early at the University of Chicago," he thought.
…
Lip resolved to process everything methodically, step by step.
"Lip, why aren't you sleeping?" Karen murmured sleepily beside him.
Lip realized he was overthinking.
The sheer volume of information needed to be digested slowly. "More haste, less speed," he reminded himself.
"Baby, sleep now," he whispered, pulling Karen close.
Karen grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.
The night deepened, and the two fell asleep in each other's arms.