After a moment, Marcus lowered his hand and looked at Caleb. "I can't taste it."Wasn't that to be expected?!Caleb quickly averted his gaze, not wanting to reveal that his mind had started wandering into inappropriate territory again. But then, he noticed something odd.Marcus' eyes were fixated on Caleb's lips, almost as if silently saying, "I couldn't taste it from my thumb. How about I try tasting it from your lips instead?"A strange thought popped into Caleb's head. Could it be that while he was busy daydreaming, Marcus' mind was also filled with similar inappropriate thoughts?"What are you staring at?" Caleb shifted slightly toward the window. "I just realized—there won't be a next time. I'll buy it myself at the store.""No need for that." Marcus finally lifted his gaze from Caleb's lips. "I can make it for you.""Don't you have anything better to do?" Caleb asked seriously."No," Marcus replied. "You know I've got plenty of free time."Well, that was true. Compared t
Caleb kept glancing at the clock.When it finally hit nine-thirty, he straightened up and said, "Time's up. Let's continue next time.""There's one more important thing—when trading stocks, you must maintain a steady mindset. Don't act impulsively-"Caleb quickly cut Marcus off, "Professor Zephyr, we've covered enough for today. It won't hurt to leave the rest for next time."Marcus gave him a long look, then asked, "What did you call me?""Professor Zephyr?" Caleb repeated.Marcus, who only had a high school diploma, seemed quite pleased with the title.He finally let go of the mouse. "Alright. See you this afternoon.""Not this afternoon," Caleb replied. "Some company executives are coming to tour the prison. I'll be accompanying them."Occasionally, groups would visit the prison as a deterrent—to remind themselves not to engage in criminal behavior. It was usually the warden's job to host these tours, but this time, Victor had asked Caleb to join. Caleb suspected it had som
As expected, the conversation took the turn Caleb had anticipated. It seemed that, regardless of whether people came from ordinary backgrounds or the elite class, they couldn't escape one eternal topic—matchmaking."My niece is very capable. She has a high income, so she doesn't care much about a man's financial status—it's all about feelings. I'm guessing a job like yours doesn't give you many opportunities to meet women, let alone outstanding ones. How about it? Want to give it a try and meet her?"It was true that Caleb's job didn't involve much interaction with women, but that had never been an obstacle to his dating life."Is your niece already twenty-nine? You barely look like you're in your thirties," Caleb said, smoothly changing the subject.It wasn't just flattery—these successful people took great care of themselves, and this woman looked like she was in her early thirties at most."How could that be? In my thirties? That's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" sh
On a weekend afternoon, Caleb Johnson was jolted awake from his nap by a series of loud thumping noises. The sound was not unfamiliar—he heard it nearly every weekend. It was the neighbor across the street practicing boxing.Caleb sat up, reaching out to pull aside the blackout curtains in his bedroom. The gentle afternoon sunlight slipped through the gap, casting a line of light and shadow across his fingers.Waking up from a nap always left him with a dry mouth, and on days when the boxing sounds were particularly loud, that dryness seemed even more pronounced.Caleb crossed his legs and stretched lazily, then slowly turned to open the nightstand drawer and retrieve a monocular telescope. The world through his eyes instantly transformed into a perfect circle, the magnified image revealing the pale yellow exterior of a building.Caleb's neighborhood was situated on the outskirts of the city. There were no high-rise buildings, only rows of two-story villas. To maintain a uniform an
Once summer began, the temperature began to rise steadily.Unlike the noisy city, the tranquil neighborhood lacked the persistent clamor of urban life. The only disturbance was the occasional sound of trains crossing distant bridges, their brief whistles echoing across the quiet streets.Caleb had never been fond of summer. The blinding sunlight and sticky sweat were detestable to him, and he rarely engaged in outdoor activities under the scorching sun. Even the inmates at the prison joked that his pale skin made him look nothing like a correctional officer.However, Caleb found himself unexpectedly reassessing his opinion of the season this summer.It wasn't due to any profound reason—it was simply because the hotter it got, the more revealing his neighbor's clothing became.Normally, when the man came home from work, he would immediately change into unremarkable loungewear. The loose-fitting white T-shirt he usually wore concealed his impressive physique, making Caleb's covert o
On a sweltering afternoon, the asphalt road reflected the blazing sunlight, as if it were emitting suffocating waves of heat.Neighborhood workers had once again arrived at Caleb's neighbor's doorstep, grumbling about the scattered shards of glass and the black ink stains on the walls.Caleb had just gotten home from work and emerged from his garage.Upon seeing him, the two neighborhood workers approached and asked, "Mr. Johnson, do you know when Mr. Zephyr will be home?"Caleb politely shook his head, indicating that he wasn't sure.In this clean and orderly neighborhood, all residents took pride in maintaining the environment. People regularly trimmed their lawns and kept their gardens pristine. Even the public roads outside the yards were occasionally washed down.Yet, amidst this harmonious environment, one house stood out in disarray. Glass shards littered the ground, and ink stains on the walls went unaddressed. It was an eyesore, starkly contrasting with the otherwise wel
As soon as Caleb finished speaking, the telecom scammer who was sitting closest to him immediately greeted, "Good day, Officer Johnson!"His sycophantic, fawning tone made it seem as though he was about to offer Caleb a cigarette.Some inmates made a habit of currying favor with the correctional officers, with this telecom scammer being a textbook example.Caleb himself didn't particularly mind this kind of behavior. Occasionally, he'd grant small favors to certain inmates. However, his treatment of them was not based on whether they tried to please him, but rather on his own unique sense of morality."Open your copies of the Inmate Regulations handbook," Caleb instructed, stepping back to the whiteboard.He turned around, picked up a marker, and wrote "Obey the Rules" in bold letters.In stark contrast to his refined appearance, Caleb's handwriting was forceful and sharp. Each stroke cut into the whiteboard like a blade, giving those words an imposing weight. But only Caleb knew
For Caleb's statement to be accurate, the correct answer should have been "of course not".In a few days, Marcus would discover that there were no cameras installed in the bathhouse and restrooms. After staying a bit longer, he would also learn that even in places with cameras, there were blind spots and instances of malfunction.It wasn't some monumental secret. The reason for not upgrading the surveillance system was that the prison was already heavily guarded by correctional officers. There were also patrolling teams who were on duty around the clock. As a result, the need for surveillance cameras was not as critical.At Southern Prison, the officers rarely relied on cameras. Only Caleb alone possessed a secret unknown to others.The library was located in a corner of the administrative building's second floor. Further in, there was a storage room that the inmates had taken over.Originally, the storage room had been filled with cleaning supplies such as mops and small carts. H