Chapter 10

The professional psychological evaluation was delivered to the prison the following afternoon. By then, Marcus had already completed his 24-hour confinement and was released from solitary.

Hector still felt that the report underestimated Marcus' level of danger. However, he knew that experts handled professional matters, and his own opinions didn't carry much weight. So, he merely stopped by the library to chat with Caleb for a few minutes.

As the time for the inmates' yard time approached, Hector left and returned to the infirmary across the hall.

Caleb picked up the just-delivered newspaper. Out of boredom, he flipped to the entertainment section, where he found that this week's puzzle was Sudoku. It was a logic and math game where one must fill a 9x9 grid with numbers so that each row, column, and 3x3 subgrid contained all digits from 1 to 9 without repeating.

Caleb had done plenty of Sudoku puzzles before, but this one was noticeably more challenging. Halfway through, he couldn't use the process of elimination any longer and had to try each possibility one by one.

Given that it wasn't ideal to overtax his brain during his lunch break, Caleb set the newspaper aside and picked up the report Hector had left behind.

The report indicated that Marcus was an ISTJ (Introverted, Sensing, Thinking, Judging) personality type, with a high overall tendency of 90%. He was rational and calm, without signs of irritability or aggression. He was non-threatening and showed no signs of violence, though extreme reactions might occur if he felt threatened.

The report wouldn't affect Marcus' treatment in prison. After the adjustment period, he would be assigned to either Block 2 or Block 1 based on his behavior. Given his current conduct, he hadn't instigated trouble or been problematic, and seemed to comply well with the guards. He would likely be assigned to Block 2.

Just as Caleb was thinking this, someone handed him a book. Some inmates borrowed books to read in their cells and returned them during yard time once finished.

Caleb took the book, noticing that it was titled Strawberry Cultivation Techniques. If he remembered correctly, none of the inmates had ever borrowed this book before. He instinctively looked up and met Marcus' gaze.

"Do you want to borrow this book?" Caleb asked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't read."

It seemed counterintuitive for someone with reading difficulties to want to read a book.

"I'm not borrowing it," Marcus said. "I'll read it right here."

"Reading it here doesn't require you to report to me."

"But I need you to read it to me."

Caleb fell silent instantly.

What the heck?

Marcus' tone was so matter-of-fact that Caleb had a moment of doubt, wondering if he had missed some detail that prevented him from understanding the other man's logic.

"What did you say?" Caleb asked politely, though his expression clearly conveyed his confusion.

"I need you to read it to me," Marcus repeated. "Outside the prison, I can listen to audiobooks on my phone, but that's not an option here."

Caleb maintained his patience and replied, "That's why this is a prison, not a place for you to do as you please."

"Isn't prison supposed to promote learning and reform?" Marcus fixed Caleb with a steady gaze. "I want to learn about strawberry cultivation. I think the prison should support me."

The logic was sound. Any prison would prefer inmates to engage positively in self-rehabilitation.

However, Caleb was not keen on creating problems for himself.

"You can submit a request to the warden. If he approves, I can read it to you."

Caleb knew the warden well. Victor Morris was an about-to-retire middle-aged man who followed the principle of avoiding trouble when possible. He was skilled at maintaining the status quo and only made changes when absolutely necessary.

If Victor agreed to give Marcus special treatment, it could lead to many problems—other inmates might demand special treatment, or those dissatisfied with Marcus might protest, among other issues.

In any case, Caleb didn't think Victor would agree to Marcus' request.

Marcus slowly took the book back, dropping his gaze thoughtfully as if contemplating something. At that moment, his eyes fell on the weekly newspaper.

Noticing the pencil-written numbers, he asked, "Are you doing Sudoku?"

There was nothing to hide about this, but Caleb had not yet solved the Sudoku puzzle and didn't want to reveal that.

"It's none of your business," he said blandly, flipping the newspaper over.

Marcus' gaze shifted from the newspaper to Caleb. "The number for that spot is 5."

"What?" Caleb once again struggled to follow Marcus' leap in logic.

"The spot you're stuck on," Marcus said. "The correct answer is 5."

Caleb was not interested in discussing Sudoku with Marcus.

Frowning slightly, he asked, "Do you need anything else?"

Marcus put the book back on the shelf and walked straight out of the library.

Caleb continued to mull over the matter. He reopened the newspaper and wrote the number 5 in the spot where he had been stuck. After that, the difficult Sudoku puzzle seemed to crumble like a besieged city, one number after another falling into place under Caleb's pen.

So, the number for that spot was indeed 5.

What kind of perverse ability was that? Marcus had easily solved the Sudoku puzzle after just a brief glance at it!

A strange thought crossed Caleb's mind.

If Marcus had such strong logical skills, how could he not have anticipated being caught for his crimes? Or was it really like William had analyzed—that Marcus had sought refuge in prison simply for his own safety?

The more Caleb thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He decided to push the thought aside. When he returned to his senses, he found that the open web pages on his computer were all news related to Marcus.

Marcus was previously the top manager at Prospera Enterprise's short-selling division. He once led a very famous short-selling case.

At the time, the market was highly optimistic about a certain industry, but Marcus believed the stock prices were overinflated and that a crash was only a matter of time. So, he invested a large amount of money, selling the industry's stocks at high prices, just waiting for the eventual collapse.

While his peers and clients thought Marcus was out of his mind, the industry's stock prices did indeed collapse overnight. Most people in the market lost everything, but Marcus made a huge profit, and Prospera Enterprise gained significant recognition from this successful move.

After reading these reports, Caleb's mind recalled an image of Marcus as a social elite. Indeed, Marcus looked better in a suit compared to prison clothes.

Wait a minute, that wasn't the point.

Caleb opened another search page to look up more about Prospera Enterprise. But instead of relevant links, a cartoon appeared with the caption: "I am a capitalist. I live off the blood of others."

In the lower right corner of the cartoon, there was a small lightbulb icon.

Caleb pursed his lips.

That brat had barely been out. Was he thinking about returning to prison so soon?

At that moment, a noticeable sound came from the library door. Caleb looked over to see Hector quietly beckoning him. He glanced at the inmates in the library, who were all quietly reading their books, then stood up to walk out into the corridor.

"Did you see it too?" he asked Hector.

"I'm about to lose it," Hector said, taking a deep breath and furrowing his brow. "I asked him to focus on studying for college, and he goes and hacks into someone's website."

The person Hector was referring to was Lucas York, a nineteen-year-old who had recently been released. He always thought he was fighting for justice, but no matter how others tried to persuade him, he wouldn't listen.

Caleb thought of this kind of justice as naive idealism.

"Have you kept in touch with him since he's been out?" Caleb asked.

"Of course," Hector replied, sounding exasperated. "Who else is going to keep an eye on him?"

Caleb couldn't help but laugh. "He doesn't listen to you anyway."

"That's why I need to discipline him properly this time."

Just as Hector finished speaking, the walkie-talkie clipped to Caleb's shoulder crackled to life.

Victor's secretary said, "Officer Johnson, are you there? Can you come to the warden's office?"

"Why would the warden want to see you?" Hector asked in surprise.

Caleb's job was usually quite relaxed. Ordinarily, Victor wouldn't summon him for anything serious. But thinking back to what he had just discussed with Marcus, he had an uneasy feeling.

Caleb turned his head and responded into the walkie-talkie, "Got it."

Then, he said to Hector, "I'll go check it out."

Opening the door to the warden's office, Caleb indeed saw Marcus—and what was troubling was that he was seated comfortably on the sofa in the center of the office. Typically, when an inmate was called to the warden's office, they were expected to stand aside and did not receive such a warm reception.

Caleb's unease grew, but he still trusted his judgment of the warden. Victor was someone who avoided trouble and would be unlikely to grant Marcus any special favors.

"Caleb, Inmate 1017 wants to learn about strawberry cultivation. Isn't that a good thing?"

"…Yes, sir."

Well, maybe Caleb's judgment was off. It seemed that he would have to rely on himself.

"He has a reading disability. I heard you conducted a psychological evaluation for him. So, you'll need to help him with reading," Victor said.

"Mr. Morris, I don't think that's a good idea," Caleb replied sincerely. "He only has time to read between noon and two in the afternoon, and I need to be in the library during that time. Am I supposed to read to him in front of the other inmates?"

"You don't need to worry about the timing—it can be adjusted. In addition to the noon-to-two free period, you'll also be solely responsible for his morning educational sessions," Victor replied.

"…What?" Caleb struggled to keep his incredulity in check.

"As for the morning sessions," Victor continued, clearing his throat. "Just read him some economic news."

Caleb finally realized he had overlooked a crucial detail.

Victor was a veteran stock trader. And of all the inmates in the Southern Prison, no one knew more about stock trading than Marcus.

"Mr. Morris, don't you think this seems a bit excessive?" Caleb said through gritted teeth, maintaining his polite smile.

"Well, we're just making effective use of resources," Victor quipped, sipping his tea while averting his gaze. "You might want to learn a bit about stock trading yourself, Caleb."

Compared to avoiding trouble, Victor seemed more interested in accumulating some extra savings.

Caleb glanced sharply at Marcus, who was sitting across from him. Marcus tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.