The Charismatic Charlie Wade Chapter 5576

When Bruce Weinstein returned to the prison with the assistance of his friend Mark, the agony he
endured almost drove him to the brink of despair.

Given the prison’s strict regulations, outsiders were generally forbidden from entering. To avoid
unnecessary complications, Bruce arranged for his confidants to pick him up outside, while Mark had to
make a brief return to the hospital.

Back in his office, Bruce gritted his teeth through the pain, instructing his confidants to head to the
section where Charlie was held, intending to discreetly extract him from his cell.

A prison guard arrived at Charlie’s cell door, swung it open, and declared, “Who’s Mr. Wade? Step out.”

Charlie, silent and composed, rose from his bed and approached the door without uttering a word.

The guard secured the cells and whispered to Charlie, “The warden’s expecting you in the office. Follow
me.”

Charlie nodded, following the guard out of the prison area. The guard guided him to the prison’s medical
department, steering him into the doctor’s office during the doctor’s off hours. Handing Charlie a prison
guard’s uniform, shoes, and hat, he murmured, “Change into these, and I’ll take you to see the warden.”

Charlie didn’t question the directive, swiftly changing into the prison guard attire. The guard then made a
call on his cell phone.

A fellow guard, matching Charlie’s height and build, entered the scene. The escorting guard whispered to
the new one, “Wait here, keep it quiet, and don’t engage on the phone. Contact me. I’ll lock the door after
I leave, and you stay put until I return.”

The new guard nodded, saying, “Got it, captain.”



Relieved, the initial guard handed his hat to Charlie and ordered, “Put on your hat. Let’s go. Remember,
keep your head down outside to avoid the surveillance camera.”

Jagoan nodded slightly, donned the hat, and exited the infirmary with the guard.

After leaving the infirmary, the guard swiped his card, escorting Jagoan to the prison guard’s workspace.

As the guard stepped away, he whispered to Jagoan, “Remember, if anyone asks about tonight, say you
weren’t feeling well, and I took you to the infirmary. The doctor was off duty, so I locked you in, went out
to find emergency meds, and only returned when you felt better.”

“Okay,” Jagoan agreed, thinking the guard’s strategy of substituting the civet cat with the prince was
sound. With the uniform and hat, the surveillance camera couldn’t capture his face, leaving no tangible
evidence to arouse suspicion.

The guard took Jagoan to the top floor. After navigating a lengthy corridor, they reached the warden’s
office door. The guard knocked thrice, then, without waiting for a response, opened the door, revealing a
tormented Bruce Weinstein on the sofa.

“Warden, we’ve brought him,” the guard announced.

Bruce Weinstein, as if encountering a savior, urgently said to Jagoan, “Mr. Jagoan, come in quickly!
Guard, step outside.”

The guard nodded, closing the heavy, soundproof door after Jagoan entered.

Bruce Weinstein, unable to contain his anguish, cried out, “Mr. Jagoan, you have to save me! If you
don’t, I’ll be crippled!”

Jagoan glanced at him, smiling slightly. After putting in so much effort to quietly reach this office, his
objective was finally within reach.



Looking at Bruce Weinstein, he said coldly, “Don’t worry. Though your little brother is in pain, it won’t
burst for a while.”

Bruce Weinstein instinctively responded, “How can that be? My friend, a doctor, said it’s already dead. If
you don’t treat me, I might have to amputate it.”

Jagoan calmly stated, “Don’t worry. There’s reiki here. It won’t die. Cooperate, and I’ll cure you.”

Surprised, Bruce Weinstein asked, “Reiki? What’s that?”

Ignoring the question, Jagoan coldly inquired, “Tell me, is there a secret passage in your office? Is Peter
Cole confined beneath it?”

Bruce Weinstein, momentarily struck dumb, stared at Jagoan, muttering, “Who are you? How do you
know about the secret passage and Peter Cole?”

Jagoan smiled, stating, “I’m here for Peter Cole.”

Sending energy into Bruce Weinstein’s mind, Jagoan ordered, “Answer my question.”

Shuddering, Bruce Weinstein, now compliant, confessed, “There’s indeed a secret passage behind my
office, an elevator shaft. There’s a secret cell beneath it, and Peter Cole is locked there.”

Jagoan pressed on, “Anyone else?”

“No one else,” Bruce Weinstein truthfully replied. “He’s the only one, locked in a sealed room. I provide
him food and water once a day.”

Jagoan queried, “Why is the Rothschild family keeping him here?”



Bruce Weinstein explained, “He stole something from the Rothschild family. It’s vital to them, but he won’t
talk. They’ve interrogated him daily, but he hasn’t revealed anything. I’ve been instructed to take care of
him for now.”

Jagoan coldly asked, “Can you take me down?”

Bruce Weinstein nodded without hesitation.

Jagoan inquired further, “Will the Rothschild family know if I have an afternoon here?”

“No,” Bruce Weinstein assured. “I’m in charge, and I report everything to the Rothschild family. They
don’t directly monitor this place.”

Relieved, Jagoan ordered, “Take me down now.”

Bruce Weinstein respectfully complied, leading Jagoan to a bookshelf in his office. Extracting a copy of
the Gospel of John, he covered the book’s cover with his palm. The book emitted a beep, and a hidden
panel behind the bookshelf opened, revealing a set of cameras.

Bruce Weinstein, wide-eyed, gazed at the camera. The bookshelf slowly swung open, unveiling a metal
elevator door.

Turning to Jagoan, Bruce Weinstein said respectfully, “Sir, please come in…”

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