Volume One, Chapter Two: The System Brother Arrives

Lin Yun sat on the ground for a long while, feeling some strength returning to his body. He struggled to stand up, preparing to leave. But just as he rose, darkness suddenly clouded his vision, and a dizzy sensation overwhelmed him, as if the world was spinning wildly.

In his hazy consciousness, Lin Yun glimpsed an ancient book entwined with black electric arcs. The cover bore four eerie characters glowing with a strange light: "Prison Warden’s Demon Tome."

The book flipped open on its own with a rustling sound. The first page passed swiftly, revealing on the second page a portrait of a man.

The man in the painting was fair-skinned and handsome, with a hint of malevolent charm in his eyes.

Beneath the image, clear lines of text appeared:

Criminal: Ma Wanli
Sin Index: Level 2
Strength: Mid-tier Psychic, Rank 8
Status: Incarcerated
Capture Participation: 1%
Reward: 10 experience points/hour

Alongside this were a series of flickering light images.

Curious, Lin Yun touched the screen, and the scene expanded instantly, showing Ma Wanli rolling in a lewd orgy with several women—an utterly disgraceful sight.

“This… is the system?!” Lin Yun suddenly snapped fully awake, his heart leaping with joy, nearly shouting out loud.

No doubt about it—the "Prison Warden’s Demon Tome" was the very system that had crossed over with him!

Every criminal he personally locked away would have their crimes recorded.

The greater the criminal’s sin index and power, and the higher Lin Yun’s involvement, the more rewards he would gain.

“Just locking Ma Wanli in a cell gives me 1% participation and 10 experience points per hour!” Lin Yun thought eagerly. “If I captured every criminal in this prison myself, how much experience would that be?”

The answer eluded him, but he knew it must be enormous.

Yet psychics remained a distant dream to him.

In this world, psychic levels ranged from beginner, intermediate, advanced, super, to ultimate…

And he wasn’t even a beginner psychic yet. Let alone an eighth-rank intermediate like Ma Wanli.

Outside the prison, Ma Wanli could crush him with a single finger.

“No rush,” Lin Yun calmed himself. “Getting stronger while lying down isn’t bad at all. What’s there to complain about?”

He resolved to steadily improve within the prison and only venture out once powerful enough.

With that clear in mind, he quickly left the criminal holding area.

“Brothers! Five leaders! Cheers!” In the prison’s detention room, a few wardens were playing finger-guessing games, their breath heavy with alcohol.

Wang Daqiang’s face was flushed as he drank heartily. Spotting Lin Yun enter, he asked casually, “That guy’s locked up?”

“He’s already inside,” Lin Yun answered as he approached.

Wang Daqiang nodded, picked up a bottle from the table, and handed it to Lin Yun. “Here, have some. There are too many negative psychics in this prison—drink this to warm your body, so you don’t get corroded by psychic energy too quickly!”

“Thanks, Uncle Wang.”

Lin Yun took the bottle and gulped down a large mouthful. The sharp liquor burned down to his stomach, dispelling some of the chill within him.

He grabbed a stool and sat quietly, opening the "Prison Warden’s Demon Tome" in his mind.

This time, he wasn’t looking at Ma Wanli’s page, but the first page—his own.

Prison Warden: Lin Yun (Patient)
Sin Index: None
Strength: Weakling (0/100)
Psychic Skill: None
Available Experience: 1

“I admit I’m a patient, but weakling? The system’s rating is way too low!” Lin Yun frowned, feeling an urgent desire to grow stronger.

Following Wang Daqiang back to the prison office, he tidied up and then returned to his small cell.

The next morning, after washing up, Lin Yun sat in his chair, eyes fixed on the numbers on his panel as time ticked by.

“100 points! Finally enough experience points!” he whispered.

Holding his breath, he decisively invested all his experience into his strength.

In the next moment, the “None (0/100)” label in the strength bar exploded as if infused with a mysterious force.

In its place shone golden characters: “Beginner Psychic, Rank 1 (0/200).”

Simultaneously, a wild energy surged through his body, cleansing every bone and nerve.

Lin Yun groaned softly as a fierce itch racked his throat, and he spat out a mouthful of foul, black blood.

He sensed the massive stone that had pressed on his chest vanish, his breathing becoming unprecedentedly smooth.

“My illness… is gone?” Lin Yun barely believed it, watching “Patient” disappear from his panel as his body felt significantly lighter.

He sprang up, clenched his fists, and reveled in the power flowing within him.

“So this is the power of a psychic? Amazing! And this is just beginner level—what will it be like later?”

Joy radiated from his face.

In only ten hours, he had transformed from an ordinary man into a beginner psychic. If word got out, many jaws would surely drop.

All thanks to the system, the “Prison Warden’s Demon Tome.”

“As long as criminals keep coming in, I’ll dominate the world! No, I need to make this prison ‘lively’ first…”

At noon, Lin Yun tapped the iron bars with a spoon and shouted loudly, “Meal time!”

“Creak… clang…”

With the harsh clatter of electronic locks, a group of gaunt criminals crawled to the door like starving ghosts, green greed flickering in their eyes as they stared fixedly at the food bucket in Lin Yun’s hand.

“Why is it always thin porridge, officer… have mercy, just a little more, please…” An elderly man who had recently arrived trembled as he extended a chipped bowl, nearly collapsing.

“Everyone gets the same, rest assured!” Lin Yun scooped a ladle of thin porridge into the bowl.

They were in prison after all; no one expected delicacies.

The old man took the bowl as if he hadn’t eaten in a lifetime, gulping down the porridge and licking the edges with relish.

Lin Yun ignored him, pulling out a small notebook recording criminal information and flipping to a page.

It read: Zhang Mu, Regional Construction Bureau Manager, embezzled 800 million…

He sneered inwardly. “Fat and juicy…”

A mere construction bureau manager had embezzled so much—either very capable or a scapegoat.

Casting a glance at the old man, Lin Yun paid him no mind and continued forward.

The palm-sized notebook, given by Wang Daqiang, contained detailed records of every inmate’s crimes and information.

He needed to memorize the criminals’ identities and appearances during meal breaks.

“Li Yuan, PhD, spreading government rumors… So he’s a keyboard warrior…”

As he walked, Lin Yun skimmed the notes, quickly grasping the profiles of dozens of inmates.

They had either offended the government or the powerful; none were simple cases.

Most appeared non-psychic, except for Ma Wanli and another formidable one who must be…

“Zhang Ming.”

The name stirred something in Lin Yun. He flipped to that page.

Zhang Ming, from another city, suspected of terrorist activities.

This guy looked like a serious threat.

Lin Yun’s gaze swept the cells, finally resting on the innermost one.

A shadow stood there with hands behind his back, face obscured.

Zhang Ming certainly carried himself with arrogance.

Calling him for dinner earned no response—did he think this was a vacation?

“Hmph, such a big attitude. Fine, suit yourself,” Lin Yun scoffed and headed toward Cell Eleven.

Inside, Ma Wanli lay slumped on the floor, mouth agape like a dried fish, barely clinging to life.

“Can’t let you die so easily; I still need to farm more experience from you,” Lin Yun mused.

He scooped two ladles of broth and suddenly splashed it onto Ma Wanli’s face.

Then, with a clatter, he dumped a full ladle of thin porridge into the bowl, clapped his hands, and strode away.