Era of Magic and Martial Arts-Chapter 267 - 251: Shock

When Qian Huan threw out this question, he actually never intended to get any advice; all he needed was agreement and praise.

Feng Mu's response satisfied Qian Huan, providing him with strong emotional value, while Wang Cong...

"This guy hasn't even become a captain yet, and he's already getting a bit cocky."

Despite feeling slightly displeased, Qian Huan maintained a modest demeanor and said gently:

"Oh, go ahead, I'm listening. What do you think needs repackaging and improvement in the [Last One Out System]?"

Wang Cong slightly wrinkled his nose, smelling the scent of "anger" seeping out from the narrow gap in the explosion-proof glass wall.

With each heartbeat of the warden, the scent slowly permeated from his bloodstream, emitting through every pore.

The scent was incredibly thin in the air, but in Wang Cong's keen sense of smell, it was magnified a thousandfold, enveloping him like a dense fog, becoming strong and pungent.

In Wang Cong's perception, it was as if a terrifying and grotesque beast with bulging veins was imprisoned on the other side of the glass, roaring and baring its teeth at him, unable to hide.

Human expressions can deceive humans, but they cannot deceive the Calamity Corpses.

Humans pride themselves as advanced creatures, having evolved [Masks] over millions of years, often fooling their kind, yet remaining transparent before lower animals, let alone the Calamity Corpses who feed on humans.

It's difficult to say whether this is the success or failure of human evolution.

If it were in life, upon noticing the warden's anger, Wang Cong would undoubtedly be trembling, wishing he could chew his tongue to pieces and swallow it.

But now, he feels no fear at all.

Sorry, the hormones of a Calamity Corpse are all messed up; there's no fear in his heart, only filled with Feng Mu.

If possible, Wang Cong even wants to visit the morgue and sincerely invite Forensic Qin Liang to perform an open-heart surgery on him, tattooing Feng Mu's face onto his heart.

Wang Cong's lips slightly parted, hesitating to speak, his gaze lingered for a moment on Feng Mu's face before quietly glancing at Shi Wuming in the corner.

Seeing this, Qian Huan couldn't help but find it amusing; Wang Cong's posturing instead piqued his interest.

He waved to Feng Mu, instructing, "Feng Mu, go handle Tian Tao's affairs first."

After Feng Mu's silhouette disappeared at the office door, Qian Huan turned to Wang Cong, speaking indifferently:

"Shi Wuming is dispatched by the head office; his reliability is indisputable. There's no need to keep secrets from him. Just speak your mind."

Wang Cong finally spoke, "Warden, it's like this, I have an idea that's not quite mature. As it stands, our methods in the Second Prison for directly generating revenue from inmates are somewhat crude. Perhaps we could attempt...."

Initially, Qian Huan sat in the chair, maintaining a calm demeanor, interested to see what Wang Cong might propose.

However, as Wang Cong gradually revealed the vast plan, Qian Huan sat up straighter and leaned forward, his face showing a moved expression, his breathing becoming rapid.

"... So, generally speaking, that's it. We can have prisoners entertain the audience. That way, even if we charge each viewer a trivial viewing fee, it would accumulate to considerable revenue."

"Most importantly, if we treat prisoners like animals, the numbers would eventually dwindle. On the contrary, if we use this method, the numbers would grow like a snowball."

"..."

Wang Cong had a slight knack for eloquence, and with his vivid description, a grand blueprint slowly emerged before Qian Huan.

Qian Huan stared with wide eyes, his gaze burning as he looked at Wang Cong, seemingly seeing a mountain of gold and silver crashing towards him, the Second Prison, and Celestial Light Capital.

A trace of regret spread in Qian Huan's heart as he discreetly glanced at Shi Wuming's back.

If time could turn back, he would undoubtedly have Shi Wuming guard the office door rather than eavesdrop inside.

Wang Cong suddenly paused, looking at Qian Huan with suspicion, detecting a faint whiff of murderous intent emanating from him, slowly drifting towards Shi Wuming like a wisp of smoke.

Shi Wuming did not notice, maintaining his statue-like posture, but his eyes glanced sideways uncontrollably towards Wang Cong, with pupils gleaming with faint blue light.

He had but one thought in his mind: "This creepy prison guard must be a demon; how else could a human conceive such an insane, evil plan?"

Wang Cong didn't care what humans thought. He merely mimicked Feng Mu's tone when explaining it to him, verbatim reciting the packaged "High-Quality Food Development Plan."

Thus, he said, "... So the basic concept is this - I call this plan the [Octagonal Cage Beast Fighting Arena]!"

[The Octagonal Cage Beast Fighting Arena] was Feng Mu's original term, while the [High-Quality Food Development Plan] was Wang Cong's new understanding of the plan after his death.

What Wang Cong didn't know was that [The Octagonal Cage Beast Fighting Arena] was merely the prologue of Feng Mu's [Food Development Plan], merely the first step he designed to set the stage for the subsequent grander Feast.

Feng Mu harbored a much larger plan; he didn't reveal it all at once because the market infrastructure hadn't matured enough to support it, and he worried that the vastness of the concept might deter investors and audiences.

A good plan needs to be progressive, to be executed step by step with patience.

It's like introducing a child to movies; you shouldn't show them an uncut action film at the start but instead a concealed drama, gradually nurturing their interest and acceptance.

Whether when facing investors or the audience, it's necessary to patiently cultivate their threshold of expectation, raising it little by little while subtly luring them without feeding them in one go.

Otherwise, if you overfeed them, there might not be any chopsticks left for you at the table.

With Wang Cong's last word landing, within the office, whether inside or outside the explosion-proof glass, the air seemed to freeze, and even the sound of breathing paused.

Wang Cong stood there in a daze, a hint of confusion rising in his heart:

"I am now a Calamity Corpse and do not need to breathe. The reason I pretend to breathe is to perform for you living beings. But do you two not need to breathe either? Could it be..."