A five-hundred-year sentence, that's just a joke, isn't it? Just shoot the worst of the worst or electrocute them—who cares about a sentence that sounds ridiculously long? When it comes down to it, isn't it just a life sentence?
"Five hundred years, that's indeed a long sentence. Does the prisoner have to be buried here to continue serving his sentence after he dies?"
Yang Yi half-joked, half-serious, before casually asking, "What crime was committed? What earns someone a five-hundred-year sentence?"
"I don't know, I only know he's serving five hundred years, but I have no idea what crime he committed."
Yang Yi shrugged and said, "Such a prisoner must be quite terrifying."
"Once they get here, no matter how fierce a person is, they're just caged poor things, so there's nothing to be afraid of, uh, no, some people are indeed very frightening."
The prison guard took a deep drag of his cigarette, then said to Yang Yi, "Have you ever hunted?"
"No."
