The "refined and elegant" black-bellied catlike top x a stray-dog bottom who thinks he's pretty fierce
On the new prosecutor's first day in office, the Hungry Ghost Gang provoked him on camera.
More than a dozen of them detained the two men he'd sent over, then grinned at him and made an obscene gesture.
While all the prison officers held their breath, the prosecutor smiled and tore up the release authorization in his hand.
Two days later, the prosecutor went to the prison camp himself to interrogate Xiao Xuan, the Hungry Ghost Gang's leader. Hundreds of inmates pelted him with stones, spat at him, and taunted, teased, and whistled at him the whole way there.
Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Xiao Xuan grabbed his wrist from behind and pressed close against him, almost embracing him.
The criminal narrowed his long, dark red eyes and smiled at the inmates, his words half-playful and half-serious. "Shh... Keep your voices down. Don't scare our prosecutor."
Xiao Xuan, a wanted criminal who had committed every kind of heinous crime and showed no remorse, was said to be a murderer with tens of thousands of lives on his hands, more dangerous than any criminal involved in God's Plan.
He was a mad dog feared by everyone: without a conscience or a sense of pain, biting anyone he saw, and unafraid to die along with his enemies. He quickly secured the top spot in the prison camp.
Everyone felt anxious for the prosecutor who regularly came to interrogate him.
The new prosecutor, Chu Heng, had a beautiful face that made everyone sigh in admiration. He was a refined beauty as alluring as a cat. His build was no match for the many hulking criminals, and during routine inspections they always eyed him with the hunger of wolves and tigers, making every visit seem like a lamb walking into a tiger's den.
Then, during one solo interrogation of Xiao Xuan, the cameras broadcasting to the entire prison zone suddenly went dark.
As the criminals jeered and joked at the black screen, the guards broke into a cold sweat and rushed to the interrogation room, afraid that if they were one second too late, the handsome prosecutor would be dead inside.
But in the interrogation room, miles away, the prosecutor's lips curved up. One hand gripped the mad dog's throat, while the other stroked his sweat-damp hair. He murmured, "Shh... Keep your voice down."
Theme: To be added.
