Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

This is a brilliant yet ruthless scheme.

If these people cannot adapt to the domestic judicial system of "procedural justice," then send them to a battlefield where there is no procedural justice to begin with.

There, the "fire of judgment" in their hearts was not a threat to order, but the sharpest weapon.

"Since they can no longer adapt to us, let them go to another battlefield—a battlefield that needs their kind of 'absolute justice'." Han Qiming's voice echoed in the conference room.

……

Meeting room at the quarantine camp.

Zheng Guofeng and Han Qiming sat at one end of a long table, opposite the "sharp blades" that were about to be repositioned by fate.

Lei Zhen was the first to walk in.

The former criminal investigation captain listened silently to the description of the plan.

"If you go over there, will you be able to actually get anything done?" Lei Zhen raised his head, his eyes deep. "Or will you continue to be bound by all sorts of rules?"

"There's only one rule over there—eliminate the target. The rest is up to you," Han Qiming replied crisply.

A glint flashed in Lei Zhen's eyes, then returned to calm.

He nodded, his voice low: "I'll go."

Next up is Wang Gang.

The mobile assault team leader grinned, a smile tinged with relief and wildness: "It should have been like this a long time ago. It's stifling here; I feel like burning everything, but I know I can't. Going over there… is much better."

Zhou Ming adjusted his glasses, appearing even more cautious as an intelligence analysis expert: "I need to confirm one thing: Is the target truly 'evil'? Or is it merely a political enemy?"

Zheng Guofeng leaned forward slightly, his gaze firm: "The target list was jointly reviewed by the Ministry of National Security and the Overseas Operations Agency, and it targets only terrorist organizations, armed criminal groups, and perpetrators of crimes against humanity. You will not be allowed to kill civilians."

Zhou Ming remained silent for a moment, then finally signed his name on the document: "Then I'll sign."

The last one to walk in was Gu Heng.

He wore a simple gray uniform, his eyes were eerily calm, as if he had transcended worldly fears and expectations.

After hearing the proposal, he didn't answer immediately, but instead asked, "Do you know what I want to do most right now?"

Without waiting for anyone's reply, he answered his own question, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips: "I want to find those judges, lawyers, and forensic experts who helped Zhang Ziqian get acquitted, and let them see that fire too."

Han Qiming stared at him, his tone serious: "Can you still distinguish between good and evil?"

Gu Heng smiled, a smile with a martyr's piety that sent chills down one's spine: "I've never been so clear-headed. I was terribly wrong before, and now I want to atone. Those beasts who slaughtered civilians on the overseas battlefields are the ones who deserve to be burned. I'm going."

Liu Changhe walked in carrying a handwritten notebook, which was filled with detailed records of his sins.

"I once used procedural justice as a shield, helping countless evils—I dare not even think about it now." He opened his notebook, his fingertips tracing the words. "But Li Rui taught me one thing—true justice doesn't need a shield. Let me go. Let those in darkness taste the pain of being burned alive."

Wu Yong remained taciturn, only nodding.

But as he was signing, he suddenly stopped writing, his voice so soft it sounded like a sigh: "I used to only seek the safest path. Now I know that some things are not safe, but they must be done."

Zheng Guofeng looked at him: "Aren't you afraid of dying?"

Wu Yong shook his head, his eyes revealing an unprecedented clarity: "What I fear is dying without ever having done a single right thing."

……

After everyone had left, only Zheng Guofeng and Han Qiming remained in the conference room.

Outside the window, night was deepening, and the lights of Chenxi City twinkled in the distance, like a calm ocean.

Who could imagine how many undercurrents are surging beneath this calm surface, and how many sparks are quietly taking root in dormant souls?

"They will be a double-edged sword." Zheng Guofeng lit a cigarette, his face somewhat blurred by the swirling smoke.

"A sword is meant to kill enemies." Han Qiming stood up, straightened his collar, and said, "As long as the hilt is still in our hands and pointing in the right direction, whether the blade is hot or not... that's a price the user has to pay."

He walked to the door, stopped, and didn't turn back: "Li Rui is dead, but his fire hasn't gone out. It's just burning in a different way. We can't completely extinguish it, we can only try to utilize it. Extraordinary abilities... they're both terrifying and alluring..."

The door closed softly, leaving Zheng Guofeng alone in the shadows.

He stubbed out his cigarette and watched the faint red light go out completely, but a sense of unease crept into his heart.

Are those people sent overseas really just there to carry out missions?

Or will they become missionaries of some new order, scattering the embers of that self-immolation to every corner of the world?

The quarantine camp is empty, but something has been forever etched into the very bones of this city.

At the top of that towering building called Yunxiao Mansion, a man once used his soul to ignite a fire that burned through the entire night.

Now, the flame has been extinguished, drifting across the ocean with the wind.

But the story has only just begun.

……

Late at night in Zhaoming City, the capital of Lieyang Province.

Rainwater meandered down the glass of the "Yunyin Club," distorting the neon lights of the city outside the window into bizarre and colorful blocks.

The air inside the club was filled with a faint scent of sandalwood, but it couldn't suppress the chill that rose in Wang Hongyuan's heart.

As the third-ranking political affairs commissioner in Lieyang Province and the de facto head of the Five Mountains Society in the province, Wang Hongyuan was accustomed to being in control of everything.

But tonight, sitting here alone, his heart is filled with a mixture of grief and anger.

Just an hour ago, he received a message from Zhong Lin: he had arrived in Lieyang and requested a meeting.

Zhong Lin, a core member of the Five Mountains Society headquarters, is Zhong Heng's elder brother and a strong contender for the next president.

Zhong Heng died in the bizarre explosion at the Nanshan Nursing Home in Chenxi City; his remains were never found.

His own son, Wang Shijun, was burned to nothingness by Li Rui on the top floor of Yunxiao Mansion.

My daughter has also been severely infected with the Soul Virus and is currently confined to her home.

Both blood debts point to the same place—Dawn City.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Wang Hongyuan immediately stood up, straightened his collar, and tried to hide the fatigue and bloodshot eyes.

The door opened, and a man in a black trench coat walked in.

"Mr. Zhong," Wang Hongyuan greeted him, his voice a little hoarse.

Zhong Lin nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping across the empty private room. After confirming that no one else was there, he sat down opposite Wang Hongyuan.

"Committee Member Wang, please accept my condolences."

Those four simple words sent a shiver down Wang Hongyuan's spine.

He opened his mouth, but in the end he just nodded bitterly: "You too."

Two lines of "please accept my condolences," and two lines of mourning.

The private room fell into a deathly silence, with only the sound of rain hitting the glass outside the window, as if mourning the two lost lives.