Wang Cong felt his mouth dry up, as if a devil were pounding on his heart like a drum, causing his head to buzz with the roaring flow of blood.
"Packaging, labeling, display?"
In Wang Cong's mind, these seemingly normal words twisted into something ominous when associated with prisoners.
He swallowed, as if he understood the intricacies, or perhaps finally recognized the madness and danger behind Feng Mu's gentle facade.
"If things go according to your plan, most of the inmates in the Second Prison won't escape death, will they?" Wang Cong finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly.
Even though Feng Mu had only revealed a fraction of the plan to Wang Cong, he was pleased that Wang Cong could perceive its bloody core.
He smiled slightly, peeling off his carefully woven disguise, revealing his true face underneath and said with chilling honesty:
"Of course, you wouldn't be growing sympathetic towards these prisoners, would you?"
