Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Jiang Jianping walked to the entrance of the fire escape and suddenly stopped.

He lowered his head, his gaze falling on the ground below the crack in the door.

There was a very faint water stain, the moisture from Liu Zhen's shoes brought down from the moss downstairs. It left a barely perceptible footprint on the dry teak floor, so faint that it almost blended into the texture of the floor. An ordinary person might not even notice it if they squatted down and looked closely.

But Jiang Jianping is no ordinary person.

His gaze was fixed on the water stain like a nail, and he slowly raised his right hand to press the red alarm button on his waist.

At that moment, Liu was shocked.

Almost at the same instant Jiang Jianping's finger touched the red button, Liu Zhen flung open the fire escape door and dashed out like an arrow.

With his left hand, he grabbed Jiang Jianping by the neck, pressing his thumb hard against the carotid artery on the side of his neck. Even through the gray-black military-grade insulating lining, he could feel the violent throbbing of the other man's carotid artery.

A pale blue arc of electricity leaped from Liu Zhen's fingertips, casting a cold light in the dimly lit corridor.

The blue light was instantly reflected in Jiang Jianping's pupils.

He saw it, clearly saw the hand gripping his neck, saw the arc of electricity dancing on the fingertips, saw death pulsating against his skin.

But there was no fear on his face; instead, he revealed an almost ferocious smile.

He is not afraid.

Because this gray-black military-grade insulating lining was clinging tightly to his entire body—from his neck to his ankles, every inch of his skin was covered by this multi-layered material woven from special fibers.

It can withstand 500,000 volts and can withstand being burned by an electric arc for more than three seconds during testing.

Three seconds is enough for a lot to happen: enough for him to press the alarm, enough for the security personnel outside to rush in, enough for this reckless avenger to be riddled with bullets.

Moreover, the electric current couldn't harm him at all.

Jiang Jianping pressed the red button hard with his thumb.

The button clicked and sank in.

Almost at the same instant, the current entered the body.

But instead of the expected burning pain that penetrates the skin, it was a strange, tingling sensation that seemed to emanate from the very bones.

Jiang Jianping was stunned for a moment. He even had time to curse in his mind, "What the hell is this?" The next second, the tingling sensation turned into a tearing pain.

Liu Zhen's arc of electricity never intended to "penetrate" the insulating suit from the beginning.

His "Electrical Energy Agitation" is not only capable of manipulating the current in the environment, but also of sensing and interfering with the weak electric fields within living organisms.

The human nervous system is a complete circuit. Every nerve transmits weak bioelectric signals. Every heartbeat, every breath, and every thought is the result of countless electrical signals jumping between neurons.

Insulating clothing can only block electricity from the outside.

It couldn't stop Liu Zhen from using his mental power as a "magnetic core" to generate an electric current "out of thin air" directly within Jiang Jianping's body through electromagnetic induction.

Just like a transformer can transfer electrical energy from the primary coil to the secondary coil through the resonance of the magnetic field without a direct wire connection.

Liu Zhen's fingertips were pressed against the insulating suit; those weren't the points of attack, but rather the anchor points for establishing the coupling field.

That wisp of pale blue electric arc was merely adjusting its frequency—synchronizing its mental energy fluctuations with the bioelectric field within Jiang Jianping's body.

Then resonance.

Invisible currents were simultaneously "sensed" in Jiang Jianping's blood vessels, nerve bundles, and neurons in his brainstem.

They don't come in from the outside; they come from within his own body, born of his own making.

No matter how well the insulating clothing protects you, it can't stop a thunderstorm from erupting from within.

A blinding white light flashed in Jiang Jianping's vision, followed by eternal darkness.

The brainstem's respiratory and cardiac centers were simultaneously damaged by the body's own bioelectricity.

Breathing stopped.

My heart stopped beating.

Jiang Jianping's body fell straight backward, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

He lay there, his eyes still open, his pupils dilated.

In my final moments of consciousness, only one sentence echoed:

I pressed the button... and the signal was sent...

He never understood why that expensive, custom-made insulating suit, capable of withstanding 500,000 volts of high voltage, had failed to protect him.

Almost the instant the button was pressed, a piercing alarm blared from every corner of the building.

Red alarm lights flashed wildly on the ceiling, turning the dimly lit corridor a blood-red hue.

Almost at the same moment, a thin vine, as thin as a hair, dangled down from the gap in the ceiling vent's grille, wrapping around Jiang Jianping's wrist and trying to pull away the hand that was still pressing the button.

But it was too late.

The button has been pressed.

The vines froze in mid-air, then limply loosened and silently retreated into the vent.

I missed it.

Liu Zhen released his grip on the corpse's neck. The alarm bells rang so loudly they made his eardrums ache. He could hear hurried footsteps coming from behind the door at the end of the corridor; at least five or six people were rushing toward him.

He glanced down at the slightly dented red button on Jiang Jianping's waist and frowned.

We were still a step too late.

Can't wait.

He turned and moved along the wall to the other end of the corridor, the moss under his feet rustling as he stepped on it; he no longer cared about hiding.

The only way out is to rush into Han Dongcheng's master bedroom before more people surround him and drag out the guy hiding in the shell.

The fire escape door behind him swayed slightly in the wind, and he knew Meng Zhaowen was there—his silent partner, who would shield him from all threats from behind.

……

On the first floor, the door to the monitoring room was kicked open.

The fourth brother rushed out, clutching the walkie-talkie. The old burn scar on his left cheek looked particularly grotesque under the light.

There was complete silence on the walkie-talkie.

"Northeast corner, please respond."

No one answered.

"West side, please respond."

Still, no one answered.

"Captain Jiang?"

silence.

Only the hissing of electricity and the repeated background alarm sounds sounded like a kind of mockery.

The fourth brother clenched his fist. He was Jiang Jianping's deputy and had followed him for six years, crawling out of piles of corpses three times, from the border to the interior.

Captain Jiang never loses contact; even if he's on his last breath, he'll find a way to send a message back.

But now there's nothing on the walkie-talkie.

The monitor screen showed a corridor that was empty twenty minutes ago, and all signals were cut off one minute ago.

It's obvious that it was the intruder who controls the electricity who did this, and he even had accomplices, otherwise the surveillance lines couldn't have been cut off so cleanly.

"Everyone, follow me!" the fourth brother shouted, gripping the butt of his gun tightly with his right hand, his thumb expertly resting on the safety.