Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

The damp, musty smell in the secret passage was like countless tiny insects crawling into Han Dongcheng's nostrils.

The sharp edge of the key in his hand hurt his palm, but the cold touch actually made him more rational—as long as he got the car, as long as he got out of this hellish place, he could survive.

A muffled thud suddenly came from far behind, like the sound of a heavy wooden door being forcefully smashed open.

Han Dongcheng's heart skipped a beat, and he even staggered.

It's a hidden door to the master bedroom.

He dared not look back, and could only run forward as fast as he could.

The walkie-talkie was quietly clipped to his waist, and hadn't made a sound since the alarm went off.

Jiang Jianping didn't respond, Lao Si didn't respond, and so many fully armed security guards seemed to have been swallowed up by the night, without even a cry for help coming out.

Han Dongcheng didn't know how they died, nor did he want to know.

Having done so many dirty things over the years and witnessed too many silent deaths, he knew only that if he were a step slower, his fate would be even worse than those people's.

He touched the insulated pistol tucked behind his waist; the hard, rigid barrel gave him a false sense of security.

It was custom-made by experts, with a full polymer shell, ceramic bullet, and even the firing pin is made of high-strength composite material, without any metal. Even if Liu Zhen can control electricity, he can't affect this gun.

And this inner lining he's wearing—it can't be penetrated by 500,000 volts of electricity. As long as he can get on the car and floor the accelerator, no one can stop him.

The steps finally came to an end.

Han Dongcheng practically slammed open the barrier at the exit of the secret passage, and a rush of fresh air mixed with the distinctive smell of gasoline from the underground parking garage hit him.

He staggered out and immediately spotted the black modified armored vehicle parked in the corner—a diesel engine, purely mechanically started, with the electrical system simplified to only the most basic lighting, the fuel tank and wiring wrapped in three layers of spark-resistant material, and even the tires were solid run-flat tires.

This was the last resort he had prepared for himself, and now it has finally come in handy.

Insert the key, turn it, and the car door pops open with a "click".

He practically slammed into the driver's seat, slammed the door shut, and locked it with lightning speed.

Turn the key all the way again, and the diesel engine roared with a deep, powerful sound. The pointer on the instrument panel flickered slightly; everything was normal.

Han Dongcheng let out a long breath, his tense nerves finally relaxing a little.

He pressed the clutch, shifted gears, and floored the accelerator. The armored car roared forward like an enraged beast.

In the rearview mirror, the exit of the secret passage was empty, without a trace.

Han Dongcheng's lips curled into a cold smile of relief, and he reached out to grab a cigarette to calm his nerves. Just as his fingers touched the cigarette pack, the car suddenly jolted violently, as if it had hit something hard.

The immense inertia propelled him forward, his forehead slamming hard against the steering wheel, causing him to black out in pain.

"Hold!"

He cursed and looked up ahead.

The concrete ground in front of the car had cracked open with countless fine fissures, and countless thick, dark green vines surged out of the cracks like giant pythons that had come to life, instantly wrapping around the wheels, axles, and chassis.

The vines still had tiny barbs that pierced the rubber of the tires, tightening their grip.

The engine roared, the wheels spun wildly, grinding the rubber until it smoked and emitted a pungent, burnt smell, but the whole car seemed to be welded to the spot, not moving an inch.

Han Dongcheng's pupils suddenly contracted, and cold sweat instantly poured down his forehead.

What the hell is this thing?!

He frantically swerved the steering wheel and floored the accelerator, the roar of the engine almost shattering his eardrums, but the vines only tightened their grip, the car body making a sickening metallic twisting sound, as if it were about to be deformed by the constriction at any moment.

He finally panicked, released the accelerator, and reached for the pistol tucked to his side.

Just as they started making their move, there was a knock on the passenger side window.

"Knock knock knock".

The sound was soft and the rhythm was slow, yet it was jarringly clear in the empty underground parking garage.

Han Dongcheng suddenly looked up.

A man stood outside the car window, bent over, looking at him through the bulletproof glass.

He was in his forties, his face covered in dust and dried bloodstains, wearing a faded jacket, his right hand hanging naturally at his side, his fingertips seemingly still faintly glowing with a faint blue light.

Those eyes were deep and dark, like two bottomless dry wells, staring straight into his depths.

It's Liu Zhen.

Han Dongcheng's hand, which was holding the insulated pistol, froze instantly, and his heart pounded wildly.

He knew the other party could control electricity, but the car's windows were bulletproof, and the inner layer of the body was lined with copper mesh, making it a miniature Faraday cage, so the outside current couldn't get in at all.

He was wearing an insulated inner liner and holding a gun; if the other side dared to break the window, he could blow their head off with a single shot.

He suppressed his fear, pointed the gun at Liu Zhen, and put his finger on the trigger. He would not hesitate to shoot if the other party made any move.

But Liu Zhen didn't move.

He simply raised his right hand, spread his fingers, and gently placed them on the car window.

In that instant, Han Dongcheng's heart clenched violently, pounding heavily and painfully, as if it had been squeezed tightly by an invisible hand.

He frowned, thinking that the impact had been too severe and he had pulled a muscle.

The second blow was heavier.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through his chest, as if someone were stabbing his heart muscle with a red-hot wire.

He opened his mouth, trying to catch his breath, but found that the air seemed to have been sucked out, and he couldn't inhale even a little bit.

The third time.

His heart felt like it had been twisted violently, and the excruciating pain spread through his veins to every part of his body. His body convulsed uncontrollably, and the gun in his hand fell to his lap with a "clatter".

Han Dongcheng looked down at his chest in horror. There was nothing there, no wound, no electric current, but the excruciating pain was real and terrifying.

"Bulletproof windows, insulated seats, spark-proof fuel tank... you've prepared quite a lot." Liu Zhen's voice came through the bulletproof glass, "But you forgot—your own body, not yourself."

Han Dongcheng opened his mouth as wide as he could, wanting to shout, but all he could make was a hissing sound, unable to squeeze out a single syllable.

His vision began to darken, his ears rang, and all sounds seemed to be muffled by a thick layer of water, leaving only the sound of his own heartbeat, one beat after another, slower and slower, deeper and deeper.

Just when he thought he was about to die, the force gripping his heart suddenly loosened.

Han Dongcheng suddenly fell forward, slumped over the steering wheel, coughing violently, tears and snot mingling and covering his face.

He awkwardly looked up and realized that the car door had been opened at some point, and the cold night wind blew in, making him feel cold all over.

He is still alive.

But he soon discovered that he couldn't move at all.

Countless thin vines, as fine as hair, emerged from the gaps in the seat, like the toughest ropes, tightly binding his wrists, ankles, and chest, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

The barbs on the vines dug into his skin, causing a slight stinging pain, but they precisely avoided vital points, clearly not wanting him to die like that.