Rebuilding Base is Under Construction (BASE)
Zhang Dianyu and Mr. Wayne stared at each other.
Their eyes locked in a silent standoff until the elderly man beside them finally stepped in to mediate. "Warden Zhang, perhaps you could show us around the prison?"
Zhang Dianyu suddenly realized—this was a prison tour.
The task wasn’t hard to understand; it was essentially introducing the initial interface. After all, he had just inexplicably found himself in this hyper-realistic simulation game, and this mission seemed quite fitting.
He opened the prison’s overhead map, then mentally simulated a route, and said to Mr. Wayne, "Please follow me."
At the entrance, a chef was still poking at the vending machine and cans of cola clattered out one after another. Zhang Dianyu glanced at it, then opened the game panel and added a two-seater sofa to the staff lounge.
The efficiency of the game’s construction team was truly impressive because by the time he led Mr. Wayne and the elderly man to the office building entrance, a miraculous worker was already carrying the sofa inside.
Mr. Wayne’s gaze followed the sofa-carrying worker until he disappeared around the corner, and Zhang Dianyu felt a twinge of guilt.
Sure, it was a bit unbelievable to see a magical, all-purpose worker sprinting with a two-seater sofa, but could NPCs even have emotions like curiosity and scrutiny?
Zhang Dianyu didn’t dare to be too casual.
What if this hyper-realistic simulation game had a favorability system?
What if Mr. Wayne had the authority to suddenly withdraw the funding?
With that in mind, Zhang Dianyu’s smile grew even more sincere.
Mr. Wayne turned away from the worker and was met with the young warden’s bright, radiant smile.
Paired with his slightly androgynous yet strikingly handsome face and the faint upward tilt of his eyes, it was enough to send a chill down one’s spine even under the blazing sun.
Now Mr. Wayne began to believe the rumors—that the warden secretly disposed of troublesome prisoners in the transformer room and drowned unruly inmates by shoving their heads into toilets.
"I’ve heard the prisoner mortality rate here is quite high," Mr. Wayne remarked casually. "And you never take in light offenders."
Zhang Dianyu unlocked the office building door with a key and led Mr. Wayne and the elderly man into the courtyard.
Housing a light offender only brought in $300 in daily government subsidies, but they consumed $12 worth of food each day and posed an escape risk. Only a fool would take on such a losing deal.
If it weren’t for the fear of constant brawls among only heavy offenders, he wouldn’t even take on medium offenders.
"Gathering these scumbags in one place inevitably leads to fights and accidents." he explained as diplomatically as possible.
The game hadn’t provided him with dialogue options, and he didn’t want to upset Mr. Wayne, so he had to tread carefully.
"We’ve already purchased a batch of stun guns. Once all the guards are trained, the mortality rate will drop significantly. Prisoners will be promptly stunned during disturbances and eliminate the need for armed guards to open fire."
Yes, initially he had hired a large number of armed guards to patrol the dorms and cafeteria, firing freely at the first sign of unrest to suppress it.
But because of it, it had led to a high number of prisoner deaths in the early days.
But it was still better than guards dying—he’d have to pay compensation, and that was money!
Mr. Wayne nodded, seemingly accepting his explanation.
Zhang Dianyu began to introduce the courtyard.
It was a 6x6 grid, paved with gravel paths and grass, and served as the prisoners’ recreation area.
In this prison housing 118 inmates and the concept was almost equivalent to—during the inmates' outdoor time, they could stack themselves like acrobats or ride on each other's shoulders to perform some tricks.
Zhang Dianyu awkwardly touched his cheek.
It wasn't outdoor time now, and the area was guarded by only two armed officers with their shotguns gleaming under the sun.
Zhang Dianyu gave a vague introduction, and Wayne didn't press for details, merely just responding with a few perfunctory "hmm"s.
But for some reason, Zhang Dianyu couldn't shake the feeling of being watched and it must have been the fierce gaze of the armed officers.
Before leaving, he glared at the two officers in the middle of the yard while thinking he'd fire them as soon as Wayne left.
The prison grounds weren't small, but Zhang Dianyu had installed double-layered walls to prevent inmates from digging escape tunnels. Plus, to meet the inmates' basic needs—like having enough to eat—he had set up a sizable dining hall and left little open space.
Still, though small, the prison was fully equipped with all necessary facilities.
From classrooms to workshops and laundry rooms, along with amenities like a chapel and library, Zhang Dianyu had meticulously squeezed in everything to meet the inmates' needs within the limited space.
He had been quite proud of it but as Wayne's reactions grew increasingly silent, his mood sank.
"The last thing left is the largest area in the prison—the public dining hall." Zhang Dianyu said without much hope.
Earlier, while Wayne was looking around, Zhang Dianyu had glanced at the game panel.
The charity funds provided by Wayne Enterprises were still within the subsidy range and showing the task was in progress but not yet completed.
It seemed Mr. Wayne wasn't satisfied with the tour.
The inmate dining hall, though large, was noisy and messy—hardly likely to impress this damn Wayne.
"Let's take a look then." Wayne said indifferently. "It's almost lunchtime, and I'd like to experience your staff dining hall."
Zhang Dianyu's back stiffened.
He had just led Wayne into the prison's dining hall, and now before him was an expansive space, neatly lined with rows of long tables and benches. Further in was a massive kitchen with 15 chefs, who is fully capable of providing enough meals for the vast dining hall.
—Except there was no staff dining hall.
Why would tools need to eat?
Wayne noticed his expression and frowned slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Actually," Zhang Dianyu began to fabricate, "our staff dine in the same area as the inmates—to avoid crowding and accidents and the kitchen usually delivers meals to the staff lounge."
Wayne fell silent.
So that staff lounge with just a two-seater sofa, a vending machine, and a dirty floor covered in footprints, also doubled as a dining area?
After a moment of silence, Zhang Dianyu heard the sound of coins clinking.
Surprised, he glanced up and saw the prison's total assets had increased by $30,000.
He checked the "Wayne Enterprises Charity Fund" subsidy, and sure enough, it had been completed.
Tears welled up in Zhang Dianyu's eyes.
He wants to hug Mr. Wayne in front of him, then plants a kiss on his cheek and shouts, "Daddy!"
But when he looked to his side, he noticed Mr. Wayne holding a tray, while calmly following the stream of prisoners entering for their meal and ready to queue up for the food.
Zhang Dianyu: "..."
Was it too late to immediately upgrade the meal supply level to "high"?
Should he be grateful that he had recently upgraded the long-standing "low quantity and variety" meals to a medium level, given the prison's stable operations?