Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Zhao Hongtu was panting heavily, a glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes.

He provided intelligence and value; according to normal business logic, this is a bargaining chip.

He looked at Liu Zhen, trying to find a hint of relaxation on that weathered face.

"Liu Zhen, I understand you hate me." Zhao Hongtu took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound rational and calm despite the pain from being strangled. "But have you considered whether I was the one with the final say in this whole affair?"

Liu Zhen remained silent, the arc of electricity flickering at his fingertips, reflecting in his unfathomable pupils.

"That project was facilitated by Han Dongcheng, and it was someone from the province who put in the effort," Zhao Hongtu said, emphasizing each word. "I'm just a businessman; I want to make money, not kill. By the time Tao Yongnian reported the matter of your wife and son to me, it had already happened."

He stared into Liu Zhen's eyes, trying to buy a glimmer of hope with this frankness: "I'm not saying this to beg for your forgiveness. I'm telling you where the real enemy is. You can kill me, that's fine. But if you're smart enough, you should spare my life so I can help you pull that thread. Life has value; death means nothing."

The air froze for a few seconds.

Liu Zhen suddenly laughed.

That smile held no warmth, only a chilling coldness that was more terrifying than the dampness of the underground parking garage.

"You're right," he said, his voice hoarse. "You're not my only true enemy."

A glimmer of hope flashed in Zhao Hongtu's eyes. He stopped struggling and obediently lowered his head: "That's right, we can cooperate. I know their money laundering methods, I know their secret accounts, I can help you..."

"But," Liu Zhen took a step closer, the sound of his boots hitting the concrete floor clearly audible, "you just said that by the time Tao Yongnian reported it, the incident had already occurred."

Zhao Hongtu's face froze, and the hope that had just risen instantly vanished.

"So you suppressed it." Liu Zhen's voice was like a knife, peeling away Zhao Hongtu's disguise layer by layer. "You greased the palms where you needed to, and kept quiet where you needed to. Two lives, in your words, were 'trouble that needed to be suppressed.' You got the project, you got the profit, and then you casually disposed of the trouble."

An electric arc surged from his palm, not with a lethal intensity, but enough to make Zhao Hongtu convulse and his muscles spasm uncontrollably.

Liu Zhen released his grip, looking at Zhao Hongtu's distorted face: "You think you can get away with it by shifting the blame to those above and below? You think you're innocent just because you made money and didn't kill anyone yourself?"

"That's just how the world works!" Zhao Hongtu pleaded earnestly, his upside-down body struggling violently, the vines taut. "Why should I clean it all out? This is the business I run!"

"Do you think Longteng Power grew so big? Did I, Zhao Hongtu, get rich through hard work alone? It was by seizing every opportunity, overcoming every obstacle, and feeding everyone who needed it!"

His voice echoed in the empty garage, tinged with a hysterical madness: "In this process, some people will inevitably be crushed, sacrificed, and disappeared. This is the rule, the price, something everyone who wants to climb up must bear!"

"The price I paid was living in constant anxiety, sleeping with one eye open, and never being able to trust anyone! The price you paid was losing your wife and children. That's fate, Liu Zhen! You're not the first, and you won't be the last! You can't change anything!"

That condescending "rule theory," that sense of entitlement that treated human life as worthless, completely ignited the last trace of hesitation in Liu Zhen's heart.

That's the logic of the old world, an order built on flesh and blood.

"You're right. I can't change anything," Liu Zhen said softly, his tone eerily calm. "But I can make you pay. Your life, I'll take it."

Liu Zhen reached out and grabbed Zhao Hongtu by the neck.

True fear finally appeared in Zhao Hongtu's eyes.

There was both fear of death and fear of the look in the eyes of the person before him—a look that held no hatred, no pleasure, only a calm resolve.

The eerie electric light surrounding him made it all seem like a nightmare.

That calm resolve is more terrifying than any anger.

"Wait...wait!" Zhao Hongtu struggled, the voice squeezing out from his throat, "I...I can still...ah!!!"

Liu Zhen did not give him another chance to speak.

An electric arc surged from his palm, but it wasn't a fatal blow—it was a continuous current that penetrated Zhao Hongtu's skin and flesh, spreading along his blood vessels.

"My wife died in the same pain," Liu Zhen said softly, as if speaking to himself. "I can't truly understand, but I've imagined it. I've thought about it many times."

The current increases.

Zhao Hongtu's screams echoed in the underground parking lot, but could not be heard through the soundproof barrier woven from vines.

The plants seemed to have come to life, wrapping around the space layer by layer, turning it into a separate, enclosed space.

"My son is twelve years old this year," Liu Zhen continued, arcs of electricity dancing in his eyes. "He can recite all the circuit knowledge I taught him. He asked me what electricity is. I said, it's light, it's heat, it's something that can make many things move."

He stared at Zhao Hongtu's face, which was distorted and deformed by the electric current.

The little boy who always followed him around asking questions, the little boy who said he wanted to dedicate himself to the power industry like his father when he grew up.

Were he scared when the brake cable was cut?

Did he call out "Dad" the moment the car went down the slope?

Liu Zhen didn't know.

All he knew was that from that day on, he would never hear that voice again.

"Do you know what it feels like to be electrocuted?" Liu Zhen asked, his voice trembling. "Your nerves are burning inside your body, every blood vessel is screaming, your heartbeat is forcibly disrupted—you're still alive, but you're already dead."

Zhao Hongtu's mouth was open, but no sound came out.

His body was convulsing violently, his eyes rolled back, revealing large areas of white.

Saliva mixed with blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and fell into the dust on the ground.

"When you gave the order, did you think about how they would die? Did you think about what their last sight would be?" Liu Zhen asked.

no answer.

But Liu Zhen didn't need to answer.

He closed his eyes.

The image of his wife's last face flashed through his mind—as the car plunged down the slope, she instinctively turned to the side, shielding their son with her body.

That action won't save anyone.

But that was a mother's instinct.

Liu Zhen's tears finally flowed.

It's been two months.

From the very first day of his escape, he told himself he couldn't cry.

If you cry, you become weak, and if you become weak, you can't stand up again.

But at this moment, tears welled up uncontrollably in his eyes, sliding down his weathered face and dripping onto the cement floor, making soft, echoing sounds.

Arcs of electricity danced wildly around him, reflecting the tear tracks on his face and the lightning that had been flashing in his eyes for two months!