America's No.1 Demon Cultivator

Xiu Nuo sat on a bench, silently gazing at the vast wasteland beyond the fence wire.

The prison exercise area was mostly surrounded by high walls; this section of wire fence was a temporary extension.

Last year alone, the number of illegal immigrants in the United States exceeded 2.4 million, with peaks in August and September nearing three hundred thousand illegal immigrants per month.

Illegal immigrants accounted for one percent of the total population annually—a terrifying figure.

The conditions of U.S. border prisons and detention centers, repeatedly exposed for cramming over two thousand people into spaces designed for three hundred, were even worse.

This explained why Xiu Nuo could enjoy the scenery from behind the iron bars.

Flan and his two companions followed behind Xiu Nuo. Being tall and robust, they naturally weren't worried about being bullied in this immigrant prison. In fact, as habitual inmates, they were usually the bullies.

But now, they dared not wander off either.

Flan looked around, continually signaling with his eyes, trying to get some of the usual troublemakers to teach the devil at his side a lesson—or perhaps, suffer misfortune like he did.

After all, if someone else got beaten up with him, he would feel somewhat better.

But, as it was said, this was Border Prison.

Nobody among these newcomers wanted to stir up trouble. Owing to a large "floating population," nobody wanted to be the boss of the prison either.

You might exhaust yourself trying to dominate the prison, only to be released the next day, rendering all your efforts futile—like working hard only to be thwarted just as you're about to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

Yet on regular days, there were indeed a few who matched Flan in size, and whenever they crossed paths, they would greet each other's families with their mouths, face-to-face cursing and chest bumping considered aggressive.

These old Mexican hands knew there were plenty of others to bully; they didn't need to fight among themselves.

As for who got bullied...

Who else could it be? The unfortunate Asians, the malnourished South American refugees, the Nicaraguans and Hondurans too bullied to voice their anger, the wretches.

Actually, Mexico, Honduras, and Nicaragua weren't much better off—drug traffickers could brazenly attack police stations to rescue their compadres, even possessing more heavy weaponry than the Mexican government.

But why did it matter when this was the U.S.-Mexico border? They had the local buff advantage.

When prey is abundant, predators never fight among themselves.

Oh, except over mates.

Take Xiu Nuo, for instance, his presence in the prison was like that of a femme fatale.

It sucked, but that was the reality.

Xiu Nuo, on the third level of Body Refining, had skin that women envied.

There hadn't been an uproar solely because it was known that last night Flan had taken on three, resulting in all three getting beaten into a pulp. This news had already spread.

Even those who didn't believe it, upon seeing Flan's state today, believed most of it.

So, no matter how much Flan tried signaling to his former archenemies, everyone acted as if they saw nothing.

"Tired of looking?" Xiu Nuo suddenly said while observing the scenery.

Flan was startled. "Ah? Sir, what did you say?"

"Cut back on your sneaky tricks," Xiu Nuo said indifferently. "I probably won't be staying with you tonight."

"That would be too good...I mean, that would be too bad!" Flan said, his lips almost splitting to his nape.

If he weren't afraid of being beaten, he would definitely laugh out loud right now.

As Xiu Nuo was speaking, Wang Fugui and Zhao Hong came walking over from not far away.

"Boss." After seeing Xiu Nuo, Wang Fugui hurried over and glanced at Flan standing beside Xiu Nuo, his expression suddenly freezing, "How did you end up here again?"

Xiu Nuo raised an eyebrow, "You know him?"

Wang Fugui nodded, "Of course, a kind-hearted Old Mexico. I've had a few clients who experienced his warmth."

"Hey, Flan, don't tell me you had some inappropriate thoughts about my boss last night."

Flan's eyes widened slightly, "Wang, what are you talking about? This is your boss? You guys are the bosses of those Snakeheads?"

"No, I'm not in that business anymore, I'm following him now."

"When did that happen!"

"Yesterday."

"Fuck! You're too hasty, Wang! I was actually planning to ask you for a gentle little kitty this time around! You missed out on a business deal!"

Xiu Nuo frowned, "What the heck is a gentle little kitty?"

Xiu Nuo looked at Wang Fugui, "You're still dealing in flesh trade?"

"That's not flesh trade." Wang Fugui quickly explained, "Boss, you must understand the situation for Asians in this prison."

"Flan, he's a trustworthy Old Mexico."

"The only trouble is, this guy isn't always in prison."

Xiu Nuo had a lot to say but was somewhat at a loss where to begin.

He just wanted to end this topic as quickly as possible.

Xiu Nuo shifted his gaze to Zhao Hong, who had a bruised and swollen face.

Seeing Xiu Nuo looking at him, Zhao Hong grinned, "Those guys don't look much better than me."

Xiu Nuo nodded slightly.

Now Zhao Hong beating ten men was impossible, and since you couldn't kill anyone in prison, these bruises were the best possible outcome.

Xiu Nuo grew curious, "Fugui, how come you're unharmed?"

"Uh....." Wang Fugui scratched his head awkwardly, "I handed out some business cards, you know, I'm a guide, I have some resources."

You are still moonlighting as a pimp, aren't you!!

After finishing, Wang Fugui as if remembered something, slapped his head, "Almost forgot about that, boss, that guy's people won't get us out of here so soon, but they can improve the conditions for us."

Speaking of which, Wang Fugui looked towards the distance, then said, "Here they come."

A prison guard approached, looked at the group upon arrival, and then asked, "The East Asians who came in last night?"

Wang Fugui quickly ingratiated himself with a smile, "Yes, that's us, officer. May I ask what it's about?"

"Change cells, come with me."

Soon, the three of them were first taken back to their own cell to collect their things, then the prison guard led them to a new cell. This cell had a nice sunny window, and the whole room was much larger than other places.

The place was meant for four people, but now it seemed to house just the three of them.

"Weren't the beds supposed to be tightly packed?"

Wang Fugui grinned, "That's for the people without money. For those with cash, others may be squeezed to death, but you'll still have a room of your own. Whether outside or in prison, money brings privileges. Welcome to the United States, boss."

Xiu Nuo smacked his lips, "I kind of regret not bringing more money."