The prison car was heading in an unknown direction.
In the carriage, Max gradually became sluggish once again. Before getting into the car, the doctor gave him another injection of sedatives. After all, it was a mental hospital and these things like sedatives are like daily things for them. The escorting policemen were also happy and remained quiet when the doctor gave him a shot of sedatives. Anyway it would only make their work easier. Not to mention that Max was a death row prisoner and nobody cared much about him.
In the grogginess , Max didn't know how long it has passed. When Max opened his eyes again, he found that he was already sitting in a prison cell.
Max shook his head a few times to shake off the grogginess, stood up with some difficulty, and looked around vigilantly. To his surprise this prison cell was in a well maintained condition and had almost all the facilities.
In other words, this cell was actually much better than he imagined. Although the space was not very large, it was much cleaner than the cells he saw in the movies that are comparable to public toilets .
At this time, in front of Max was the iron fence that is standard in the prison, painted with blue-black paint. He stretched out his hand to grab it and shook it a few times. He could feel that the level of firmness belonged to the kind of 'you can't even open it with a chainsaw' type.
On the left and right sides, there are two identical walls. If one has to say that something is differentdifferent between them, then there is a mirror embedded in the left wall.
As for the back, there is a single bed, and the bedding on the bed looks quite comfortable.
In the corner, there is also a toilet. That's right, the toilet, the kind that flushes water, this thing can be regarded as a high-end facility in a prison.
But the more high end it was, the more disturbed Max felt . The reason was also very simple. It's because single rooms of this level are most likely reserved for death row inmates.
'Before execution, give prisoners good food and shelter', this custom seems to be common no matter in which world.
In this uneasy mood, Max walked in front of the mirror.
A typical Indian face with dark hair and fair skin tone (pretty handsome , cough!) was reflected in the mirror. It looked less than 25 years old, and more angular than the previous life. He even had a perfect jawline, damn!
Max looked at the mirror for a while as he indulged in some narcissism, then sat back on the bed, and began to try to sort out the experiences of the past few days.
First of all, he died in his previous world. Such a big truck ran over him and people probably had to use a vaccum cleaner to collect his body parts. So there was no way he could have survived. Then there is only one explanation. The dream he saw before wasn't just a dream. In fact, they were the memories of this body before death.
He remembered his past life memories completely. But for this life, his recent few months of memories seem to be very messy and he couldn't clearly remember them. He couldn't even remember about the crime he was being judged for.
Max was stunned suddenly.
"What's the matter? Is it a sequela of rebirth?"
Max muttered, digging harder into the depths of his memory, but the result was still to no avail.
"Okay, since I have already reincarnated, naturally the memories will also become clear gradually."
In desperation, Max could only comfort himself like this.
At least the world view of time and the memories of the past twenty years are still intact. But the problem is that he doesn't even know how he became a murderer.
Max sat on the bed listlessly and the more he thought about it, the more angry he became. He was really aggrieved to die just after being reborn.
After thinking calmly for a while, he stood up, walked to the iron window, stretched his neck and started shouting loudly.
"Is anyone there? Come on! I want to find a lawyer!"
"Hey! Anyone! I need a lawyer! "
Within a minute, the sound of the electronic doors opening sounded and a series of footsteps that sounded distant slowly approached. Immediately afterwards, a person dressed as a prison guard entered Max's gaze.
"What's the fuss all about?"
With a baton in his hand, the prison guard knocked on the iron bars as a threat.
"I want to find a lawyer!".
Max repeated, he didn't want to admit his fate as a murderer so ambiguously. More so when he didn't do anything
He is now eager to know how he became a murderer.
At the same time, he also wanted to see if he could revoke his confession, or try to reduce his sentence. After all, he was born again, so he couldn't waste this god given opportunity.
So Max's attitude was very firm. He had planned everything, if the prison guard doesn't pay attention to him, then he won't eat or sleep in the next period of time, hit his head against the wall, sing hoarsely in the middle of the night, shit on the cell floor, and then paint it all over the wall! In short, he will do anything to irritate them and make them listen to his demands. Anyway, barefoot people are not afraid of getting their shoes wet. Even if he was dragged out and shot in the head as a result, he would have to give the prison staff some mental pollution before he died.
As Max thought about it, he still felt a little excited for no reason.
The prison guard frowned and looked Max up and down,
"You want to find a lawyer?"
"Yes!"
Max said without avoiding the prison guard's gaze!
"Okay."
The prison guard nodded.
"Ah?"
Max stopped in his tracks.
"I'll make arrangements for you tomorrow morning, gso go to bed quickly!"
The prison guard said solemnly.
"Ah? Uh... thank you."
Max thanked him incoherently.
Subsequently the prison guard walked away impatiently, leaving behind Max who was still a little unresponsive.
Unexpectedly, finding a lawyer would be so simple. Originally, he was already prepared to be beaten with a baton. After all, that's exactly what happened in those movies in his previous life.
"Emmmmm, maybe the laws of this world respect the human rights of prisoners."
Max found a reasonably reasonable explanation for himself, then sat back on the bed, and began to imagine what he should ask the lawyer when he will see the lawyer tomorrow.
This floor of the prison should only house Max, so it was unusually quiet at night and Max could almost hear his own breathing sound and heart beat.