Chapter 3: The Final Request

The special cell was not large. Through the bright, specially designed glass, the scene inside was clear at a glance. The cell was sparsely furnished, without even a bed. A thin carpet covered the floor, with a single thin blanket and a pillow. In one corner of the cell, there was a toilet, separated by a low wooden board that allowed someone sitting on the toilet to be seen from the shoulders up. At that moment, a young man with a stubble beard sat on the toilet, looking somewhat disheveled. He appeared quite young and was swaying his head, whistling as if he were enjoying the moment.

The sound of flushing echoed as the young man stood up, pulling up his pants and shuffling out in slippers. He wore a prison uniform that seemed a size too large, making him look rather comical.

He flopped down onto the carpet, lying with his hands behind his head and one leg crossed over the other, swinging leisurely.

"Nice," the young man muttered, unclear whether he was referring to the relief of his bodily needs or the comfort of lying down. His expression, however, suggested contentment and ease.

The young scoundrel seemed to be enjoying himself, not looking thin at all. Could it be that life inside was quite comfortable? Zhang Zhengzhong watched the young man's relaxed demeanor with a mix of amusement and irritation. Didn't he know that today was his execution day? Yet, he seemed so carefree.

"What time is it now?" Zhang Zhengzhong asked the accompanying armed guard beside him.

"Reporting, Chief, it's 9:30."

"When is this guy's execution scheduled?" Zhang Zhengzhong continued.

"Exactly 10:00. There's a half-hour meal time before the execution," the guard replied, glancing at the young man in the cell. Even on the brink of execution, the young man remained so composed, earning a hint of admiration from the guard.

At that moment, footsteps echoed from around the corner. As expected, someone was approaching the special cell...

Two people in white coats walked over, each carrying a tray. As they neared the cell, a guard stood up to intercept them, lifting the lid of the tray to inspect its contents. The aroma of the food wafted out鈥攆ish, meat, a rather sumptuous meal. It seemed these two in white coats were delivering the final execution meal.

"Chief, should we deliver this meal?" the accompanying guard whispered.

Zhang Zhengzhong thought for a moment and said, "Deliver it. Let him have a full meal before he's executed."

The guard gave Zhang Zhengzhong a puzzled look, his lips moving as if to ask a question, but he held back. With a wave of his hand, he signaled the two in white coats to proceed. They approached the cell and slid open a drawer in the steel wall, placing the tray with the meal inside. The drawer closed, and a button was pressed, triggering a beep inside the cell to alert the young man of his meal's arrival.

Hearing the sound, the young man quickly sat up, opened the drawer, and took out the tray. He lifted the lid and inhaled deeply, a look of bliss on his face. "Ha, another good meal," he said with a smile.

Before he could finish speaking, he was already stuffing a boneless chicken leg into his mouth, chewing voraciously. Muffled sounds came from his throat, seemingly an attempt to express the deliciousness of the chicken, though no one could understand with his mouth so full.

This scoundrel eats like a starving ghost. Is the food here really that bad? Zhang Zhengzhong watched the young man's messy eating with a chuckle and asked the guard, "Is the food here usually bad? Why does he eat so sloppily?"

The guard hesitated slightly before responding, "Reporting, Chief, the usual meals here aren't great, but they're not bad either. Because the inmates here don't last long, the higher-ups have instructed to improve the food. The meals on this floor are much better than the ones above. Today's meal might be more lavish than usual, which is why he's eating like this."

"Then why did he say it's another good meal? Are such meals delivered often?" Zhang Zhengzhong recalled the young man's muttering, puzzled.

"No, not really. He's been detained for two years, and there have been several times when they said they were going to execute him. He's eaten this execution meal a few times before, but for some reason, it was never carried out," the guard explained, feeling a sense of awe. This heavy criminal seemed to have a charmed life, having escaped death several times.

Several times and still not executed? Zhang Zhengzhong heard this for the first time. After a moment of thought, a knowing smile crossed his eyes. If he guessed correctly, the Minister must have been pulling strings behind the scenes. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been delayed until now. Besides the Minister, no one else had the power to keep this young man alive until this point. The Minister was hard on the outside but soft on the inside; it seemed he couldn't bear to see the young man shot dead.

Half an hour passed quickly. Footsteps echoed again from the corridor. Leading the group was a man in a suit, followed by six fully armed, masked execution guards. They were equipped with helmets, bulletproof vests, combat boots, and loaded 97-style submachine guns鈥攁rmed to the teeth. Five of them carried 2-meter-long metal rods used for restraining extremely dangerous criminals. Without a doubt, it was time for the execution.

The man in the suit approached the cell and glanced expressionlessly at Zhang Zhengzhong. Seeing no objection, he signaled, and the eight masked execution guards took their positions. Two of them opened the communication window and ordered the young man inside to face the wall and stand against the steel.

The young man stood up reluctantly but complied, standing obediently against the wall. He seemed resigned to his fate.

After a pupil scan, the special glass door of the cell slid open. Two armed guards entered first, cautiously aiming their 97-style submachine guns at the young man's head. Any slight movement would result in immediate action. The atmosphere inside the cell grew tense.

Then, five guards with metal rods entered. With a series of clicks, the young man's hands, feet, and neck were securely clamped by the steel cuffs at the end of the rods. A hood that left only his mouth and nose exposed was placed over his head, and shackles were added to his hands and feet for double security. The young man was now completely helpless, like a lamb ready for slaughter.

Isn't this a bit too cautious? Zhang Zhengzhong's cheek twitched as he watched his former subordinate being so tightly controlled.

The man in the suit entered last. The young man, dragged by the metal rods, stood in the middle of the cell, his vision obscured by the hood, unable to see anything, including the expressions of those around him as his time ran out.

"Name? Cell number?" the middle-aged man asked as part of the final routine.

"Li Huan, Cell 0523," the young man replied, his voice muffled by the hood.

"Li Huan, today is March 4th, your execution day. According to regulations, you can make your final request. Do you have any last requests or words to leave behind?"

"Execution?" Li Huan paused, almost forgetting that today was his day to die. "Is... is it for real this time?" he muttered softly, having survived several times before. The sooner he died, the sooner he could be reborn; he didn't want to endure this nerve-wracking ordeal any longer.

"It's real," the middle-aged man replied, glancing subconsciously at Zhang Zhengzhong by the door.

"Good, then. Finally, I can say goodbye to this damn place," Li Huan said with a hint of bittersweet joy.

"Do you have any last requests? Or any words to leave? This is your final right, and we will try our best to fulfill it," the middle-aged man asked again.

"Can I still make a request?" Li Huan thought for a moment and said with a chuckle, "Well... I don't have anything to say. As for requests... I doubt you'll agree, so never mind."

"Tell us, and we will do our best to fulfill your last request," the middle-aged man said, glancing at his watch. Less than ten minutes until the execution.

"I want to go to a prostitute! I've never tasted a woman in my life. If I die without experiencing that, it's a real regret," Li Huan said firmly, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"A... a prostitute?" The middle-aged man thought he had misheard. What kind of request was this? His mouth hung open, unable to close.

"Yes, a prostitute. If you can't do that, then what's the point of asking?" Li Huan said with dissatisfaction. "Let's go, then. Time to meet my end..."

With the metal rods guiding him, Li Huan struggled out of the cell, the chains clanking. Despite his lack of resistance, the guards remained highly alert, fully prepared for any possible move from the dangerous criminal about to be executed.

As Li Huan passed by Zhang Zhengzhong, their eyes briefly met. Zhang Zhengzhong's cheek twitched with a pang of sympathy for his former subordinate's pitiful state. At that moment, he felt a bitter taste in his heart.

As Li Huan stumbled past Zhang Zhengzhong, he hesitated slightly, as if sensing his presence, but he made no acknowledgment and continued his unsteady journey toward his fate.

Li Huan was escorted into a 200-square-meter empty iron room, an eerie place where executions were carried out at the 103 Secret Prison. Next to the iron room was an electric chair execution chamber, reserved for foreign spies and agents sentenced to death. As a Chinese citizen and a senior agent, Li Huan was to be executed with a 20-yuan bullet.

Inside the execution room stood a medical officer in a white coat. At his feet were glass containers filled with liquid, ready for on-site dissection. Some of Li Huan's organs needed to be kept fresh for scientific research. Li Huan had signed an organ donation agreement upon entering the secret prison, a voluntary act and his final contribution to the country as a condemned man.

Also in the room was a masked executioner, standing silently at his post. His weapon, a 56-style semi-automatic rifle, was somewhat outdated but powerful enough to pierce a standard bulletproof vest at close range. If aimed correctly, it would shatter Li Huan's heart instantly.

With a swift motion, a guard stripped off Li Huan's upper prison uniform, leaving his torso bare. The action was somewhat rough.

"Can't you be gentler?" Li Huan grumbled.

Then, he felt something tickling his back was a brush dipped in red ink, drawing circles on his bare skin. Did they really need to mark him at such close range? Just shoot and be done with it, Li Huan thought, feeling frustrated. This was purely mental torture, and he had endured it several times before. He hoped this time it was real. He'd had enough!

The man in the suit checked his watch. As the execution supervisor, he knew it was exactly 10:00, time for the execution. He glanced at the executioner and signaled to proceed...