Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 173: Tianjie tramples all the bones of the prince

The man remained seated in the main seat, his hands folded on his knees, his back straight.

The surroundings were filled with blood and gore, but his suit was spotless and the cuffs were neat.

Seeing Zhou Yi approach, the man hesitated for a long time before finally speaking:

Congratulations, young man.

"The people you just killed controlled the flow of more than seventy trillion dollars in capital."

"If this is what you wanted—turmoil, collapse, and a plague-like economic panic—then you've done a good job."

Zhou Yi didn't say anything, but just calmly looked at him.

The man paused, his eyes flickering, and continued:

"But you will soon realize that the price of order is not me, nor them."

"But rather, it's the doctors, workers, pregnant women, and innocent children on the street."

"Admittedly, we are not perfect."

"But we are ultimately the cornerstone of modern civilization."

"Overthrowing all of these will not build a more perfect world."

"Greed, fear, lust—any ideal that attempts to 'reshape humanity' will turn into a disastrous utopia."

"Therefore, I implore you, as an elder, to seriously consider the consequences of doing so before you fire."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Yi couldn't help but burst out laughing:
“On the contrary,” he shook his head, “I have no political demands and I am not a revolutionary.”

"I have no intention of taking over anything, much less correcting anything."

I do things simply because I want to.

"You mean nothing to me."

Upon hearing this, the man's expression showed a brief moment of surprise.

His lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but his mind couldn't process it.

Unfortunately, Zhou Yi didn't give him another chance to perform, and said directly:
"Now, you have two choices."

"First, stand up and come upstairs with me."

"Second, I'll kill you and drag your body upstairs."

"."

The man lowered his head in silence.

After a dozen seconds, he let out a long breath and said in a hoarse voice:

"Get started, please hurry."

Zhou Yi nodded, raised the gun to shoulder level, and placed his index finger on the trigger.

But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a belated look of fear flashed in the man's eyes.

Then, he opened his mouth, as if to beg for mercy—

"boom."

The bullet pierced his forehead cleanly and decisively.

The man leaned back.

Limbs outstretched, face up.

The chair overturned and then there was no further movement.

Zhou Yi put away his gun and looked around at the room full of corpses and pools of blood:
Thank you for your answers!

He said he bent down, grabbed the body by the hair, and lifted it up.

"So it turns out that everyone's struggles when they are dying are no different."

T+10.

The fighting is still going on in the streets.

Gunshots mingled with screams, filling the bustling neighborhood.

People were still running, rushing forward and dodging backward.

The entire staff of an office were taken to the street.

His clothes were torn, his hands were raised above his head, and his expression was terrified.

The police car was overturned in the middle of the road, its tires still spinning.

The man next to him was burned to a crisp, charred remains.

The air was extremely polluted.

Gunpowder, blood, diesel fuel, and sweat mingled together, emitting a suffocating stench.

At that moment, no one paid attention to the sky.

No one looked up.

No one paid any attention to the top floor of the gray-white Federal Reserve building.

—Until a young man, as if struck by a sudden inspiration, stopped in his tracks.

"Look at this!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs.

At his call, the people around him all looked up.

"boom!"

The window was blown open from the inside.

The debris flew dozens of meters before hitting the ground.

The next second—

A figure flew out.

No.

That wasn't jumping off a building.

It was a man's corpse.

A black rope was wrapped around her neck.

It plummeted, then was pulled up—

And so it remained suspended in the sky above Wall Street.

The wind lifted the corner of my clothes.

A pristine white shirt was revealed.

The young man stared at the hands that hung limply at his sides.

The rope swayed gently.

Once. Twice.

Three times.

The head swayed and rotated slowly with the corpse—

Slightly turn downwards.

Until that face was completely exposed to the afternoon sun.

That is--

"Samuel! Samuel Gilbert!"

Someone gasped in surprise.

The noise on the street seemed to have been forcibly paused.

"he died?!"

"Down with Capitalism!"

"How can this be?"

at this time--

"boom!"

Another window was blown open.

The glass shattered, and the black curtains were ignited by the flames.

Several bodies were thrown out in succession.

Without a rope, they were simply dropped from a great height.

The body flips in the air, legs spread apart, arms stiff.

"Snapped--!"

He fell heavily onto the granite steps.

The neck was bent backward, the face was down, and a muffled thud was heard.

A viscous liquid flows out from it.

The crowd retreated in fear, interspersed with bouts of retching.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat! Drop your weapons!"

Shouts came from afar.

That was a joint task force of NYPD ESU and the Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF).

Twelve minutes into the lockdown, the advance team took control of the street corner.

They didn't rush to arrest anyone, nor did they recklessly cross the fire zone.

They simply deployed their forces quickly and sealed off the area.

Unfortunately, it backfired.

The original cooling plan failed, instead acting like a coolant thrown into a boiling kettle.

The commands from the loudspeaker evoked certain familiar memories:
"Get down! Get down right now!"

"You are illegally gathering!"

"lay down your weapon!"

The onlookers regrouped.

Anger, doubt, and fear intertwined, compelling them to take action.

Zhou Yi stared at the bustling black dots below and knew it was time to retreat.

If we don't leave now, it will be too late once the building is completely surrounded.

He snapped out of his daze and quickly took off his equipment.

Jackets, trousers, shoes, gloves, guns—not a single thing was left behind.

They stuffed everything into the metal trash can next to them.

Then, Zhou Yi took out the casual clothes he had prepared in advance from his backpack.

The movements were swift, and the change of clothes was completed within tens of seconds.

The lighter lit up with a snap.

Catalyzed by the igniter, thick smoke first billowed out of the barrel.

Flames then burst forth and burned ever brighter.

Zhou Yi didn't linger any longer, lowered his hat brim, and turned to leave.

There is a blocked emergency exit on the west side of the building.

The walls are rough, having been used for the maintenance of old pipelines in earlier years.

Zhou Yi kicked it, and the lock snapped.

As the internal fire alarm went off, chaos erupted outside.

Across the intersection, police abandoned their standoff with the crowd and began deploying tear gas on a large scale.

Tears, vomit, and blood.

Running shoes stepping on asphalt.

The sun hangs high in the sky.

The sunlight couldn't penetrate the smoke.

Ramon lay on the side of the street, his cheek pressed against the ground.

The nasal cavity was filled with the smell of rust.

He tried to stand up, but his legs were already immobile.

I don't know if it's a fracture or if the muscle was ruptured by something.

Footsteps all around were disordered, some near and some far.

A constant buzzing sound filled my ears.

He couldn't see into the distance; he could only see the gray sky above him.

Something is swaying in the distance.

The wind carries it in a long, soft shape.

At first he thought it was a flag.

It was only later that I realized it was a person.

A person hanging.

The suit, shirt, and shoes were still on his feet, and the hem of his clothes was swaying, as if he were still alive.

(End of this chapter)