Chapter 17

The library felt a little empty without that familiar figure. Caleb found it slightly unsettling.

In prison, inmates came and went all the time—one person would be released today, and another would be transferred tomorrow. It wasn't unusual for someone to be gone.

But Marcus was different, at least to Caleb. After all, there were just a few pages left in that book on strawberry cultivation techniques, and Caleb couldn't shake the feeling of an unresolved task hanging over him.

These past few days, Lucas had been finding every excuse to visit the infirmary. Caleb had lost count of how many times he'd told Hector not to spoil the kid so much. But every time Lucas looked up with those eager eyes and called out, "Dr. Lewis," Hector would let him use the computer without a second thought.

"You're really spoiling him," Caleb remarked. "What inmate gets this kind of freedom?"

"You know him—he's just a harmless kid with no ill intentions," Hector replied, giving the same excuse he always did.

Caleb sighed, unsure of what more to say.

Hector had a soft spot for younger guys, especially those who needed looking after. People's preferences were like something etched into their bones, hard to change. Caleb had his own quirks, so he knew he wasn't in any position to criticize Hector.

"Ugh!" Lucas groaned from behind the computer, slumping in the office chair as he stared blankly at the ceiling. "The Chess Wizard has disappeared again."

"Missing him already after just a few days?" Hector asked.

"He hasn't replied to my private messages," Lucas replied, dejected. "He always used to respond, but now… nothing. I don't know what's going on."

"Maybe your idol's just tired of talking to you," Caleb teased.

Caleb knew Hector's thoughts. Seeing how much Lucas cared about someone else, he couldn't resist poking fun at the heartless kid.

"He doesn't bother with most people, but I'm one of his oldest fans. He treats me differently."

Alright, the kid was clearly in deep.

Caleb patted Hector's shoulder to offer some comfort.

"He's probably caught the attention of some big-time capitalists." Lucas suddenly sat up, his expression turning serious as he analyzed the situation. "People like him who reveal industry secrets are bound to be thorns in the side of the rich and powerful. Maybe he's already been locked up somewhere."

Lucas had a thing for conspiracy theories, but the mention of imprisonment made Caleb think of Marcus. There were plenty of stock market wizards out there, and it couldn't be that much of a coincidence, right?

But the timing seemed to be...

"Are you actually buying into his nonsense?" Hector nudged Caleb with his elbow, interrupting his thoughts. "His idol probably just decided to stay off the forums for a while."

The internet was full of interest groups, each buzzing with activity. However, any change in real life could easily shift a person's focus. Caleb himself once had online friends he connected with. But over time, most of those connections had faded away.

"My idol is definitely in trouble," Lucas insisted, clearly disagreeing with Hector's explanation. "I have to help him."

Caleb chimed in, "Are you sure about that? Have you forgotten your mission and why you're in prison in the first place?"

"What mission?" Hector asked, curious.

Caleb had meant to tell Hector about this but kept putting it off. Eventually, it had slipped his mind.

Ignoring Lucas' pleading eyes, Caleb recounted the teenager's plan to provoke Marcus. It was clear to everyone that Hector was genuinely angry after hearing Caleb's explanation.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is? And you tried to provoke him?" Hector scolded, his words sharp. "Look at Nine and Eric! Last time, you only hurt your ankle. If you mess with him again, he might cripple you permanently, and you won't be able to care for yourself!"

"If I can't take care of myself, you'd take care of me, right, Dr. Lewis?" Lucas muttered.

"You're not even listening, are you?"

"Dr. Lewis, you're the best," Lucas replied, grinning cheekily.

"Get out of here," Hector ordered, pointing to the door. "And stop hanging around my office for no reason."

"Don't worry, Dr. Lewis," Lucas said, curling up in the chair and refusing to leave. "That bad guy's in solitary confinement. There's no way I could mess with him even if I wanted to."

As Caleb watched the two of them go back and forth, he suddenly felt a bit out of place.

Marcus was supposed to be released from solitary confinement by tomorrow morning.

Caleb had told Marcus he would visit if he felt like it, but in truth, he hadn't gone yet. It wasn't that he wasn't in the mood—he was just too lazy to bother. But today was particularly dull. After some thought, Caleb decided to head to the library, grabbing the book on strawberry cultivation techniques.

The walk to Block 1 was long, as it was the furthest from the administrative building. As Caleb made his way through the second-floor corridor, he couldn't help but notice the curious glances from his colleagues, wondering why he was headed to the cell blocks.

He brushed off their inquiries, merely saying he had something to take care of. It was enough to satisfy them, at least until he reached the solitary confinement area. This was one of the reasons Caleb had been reluctant to visit Marcus. The distance was inconvenient, and the number of greetings he had to exchange on the way was tiresome.

After all, he couldn't tell others he was visiting Marcus to chat with him, so he tucked the book under his arm. If anyone asked too many questions, he planned to pass it off as a study session for Marcus, whose mood was clearly worse than it had been a couple of days ago.

When Caleb opened the small slot, Marcus lazily leaned over and greeted him, "You're here, Officer Johnson."

His tone carried a hint of subtle complaint, as if asking why Caleb had taken so long to arrive.

Just as before, Caleb settled against the door and casually flipped open the book.

"How's solitary treating you?"

"Not great."

Caleb had seen inmates break down in solitary confinement. He knew it was a place that could drive anyone to the brink. The fact that Marcus was willing to endure 72 hours there to secure a single cell spoke volumes about his resilience.

"If it's that bad, maybe you should stop causing trouble," Caleb suggested.

"Yeah," Marcus muttered.

Caleb found the spot where he had last left off in the book, cleared his throat, and began reading aloud, "The method for making strawberry jam is…"

Marcus interrupted, "Officer Johnson, did you come all the way here just to read to me?"

"What else would I do?" Caleb replied, raising an eyebrow.

He wasn't here for a casual chat—there was no real reason for him to be here, given his position.

Realizing this, Marcus' enthusiasm waned.

"Alright, then. Carry on," he said in a more subdued tone.

Strawberry Cultivation Techniques was more of a manual than a proper book, and was only a few dozen pages long. Caleb read each word flatly, occasionally distracted by the faint vibrations transmitted through the iron door from Marcus' movements.

It seemed Marcus had his head resting against the door. Every time he shifted, his clothes and hair brushed against it, sending tiny vibrations through the metal that made Caleb's back itch.

After a while, Caleb finally finished reading the last word. He closed the book, glanced at the time, and spoke towards the small slot.

"I'm done reading."

"Already?" Marcus' voice came from behind the door. "Then, could you start over and read it again?"

Caleb pursed his lips. "Do you think I'm that bored?"

"I'm bored," Marcus replied.

That excuse was quite audacious.

Caleb silently remained seated and didn't make a move. There was no way he would read the book out loud again. Knowing Caleb wasn't the most patient person, Marcus didn't push the issue further.

Instead, he asked, "Then, could you tell me a joke, Officer Johnson?"

The request sounded more reasonable, but the problem was…

"I don't know any jokes," Caleb replied.

"Really, Officer Johnson?" Marcus' tone was slightly surprised. "You don't know any jokes?"

It was as if he was somehow defective for not knowing any jokes. Caleb momentarily wondered if telling jokes was a fundamental social skill. He considered himself fairly good at social skills and had friendly relationships with his colleagues.

It was Marcus, with his odd logic, who could irritate people with just a few words. How could he have the nerve to mock Caleb for being unable to tell jokes?

Recalling his past failures in delivering jokes, Caleb felt a surge of defiance.

"Well then, let me tell you a funny story. Once upon a time, there was a chicken that slid down a mountain."

After Caleb finished, there was a long silence.

"Officer Johnson, was that the entirety of your sliding chicken story?" Marcus asked uncertainly.

"Yes. Wasn't it funny? I thought it was quite amusing."

Despite his words, Caleb did not smile as he spoke.

The surroundings fell silent again, with no movement coming from behind the iron door for a while.

Caleb suddenly regretted engaging with Marcus in this manner. People's senses of humor didn't always align, and Marcus' way of thinking wasn't exactly typical. Why was Caleb even trying to compete with him over something like this?

Just then, he heard a soft chuckle, followed by a burst of laughter. In all his months of watching Marcus, Caleb had never heard him laugh so joyfully.

Marcus finally managed to control his laughter and say, "Officer Johnson, I didn't know you could be so adorable in private."

Caleb frowned. He really didn't like Marcus calling him cute. No matter what, he was a man who was 5 feet 11 inches tall. Which part of him was considered cute?

It was only because Caleb couldn't hit Marcus with his baton that the latter could say something like that.

"I'm leaving," Caleb said, standing up and brushing off his pants.

He had no desire to continue talking to Marcus, who seemed intent on laughing endlessly.

When Caleb delivered mail to Block 1 the following day, he happened to run into Marcus, who was being released from solitary confinement. He was following a correctional officer, carrying his personal belongings, evidently being transferred to a new cell.

Led by Nine, the inmates in Block 1 started making a ruckus. Unfriendly voices echoed through the hallway, but Marcus paid them no attention. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, only pausing for a few seconds to acknowledge Caleb when their eyes met.

After Paul used his baton to silence the crowd and restore order, Caleb didn't linger. He quickly finished his mail duties and returned to the administrative building as he had a lot on his plate today.

After Marcus settled into his new cell, Caleb would need to take the time to give him another educational class. This was a serious session, specifically for inmates who consistently caused trouble. If Marcus' attitude remained dangerous, Caleb could report to the supervisor and request an extension of his solitary confinement.

"Don't start defending him again," Hector warned Caleb.

Too tired to argue, he simply brushed off Hector's concern dismissively, "I won't."

At that moment, Marcus appeared at the door of the library, still in handcuffs. It was part of the special requirements for inmates in Block 1—they had to be cuffed during transfers.

"Head to the conference room on the first floor and wait for me there," Caleb instructed.

The correctional officer in charge of escorting Marcus prepared to lead him away, but he remained where he was, turning to Caleb with a question.

"Will you be telling me a joke today too, Officer Johnson?"

Before Caleb could respond, Hector looked at him in disbelief and asked, "You know how to tell jokes?"

Caleb's ears reddened as he irritably snapped, "I don't!"