Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Wen Yan sat in the darkness, staring at the cold blue light in his sea of ​​consciousness, and hesitated for a long time.

He has never actively interfered with the host's choices.

From the very beginning, he bestowed the seeds upon those destined for desperate situations, to watching them awaken their abilities through their own will and embark on the path of revenge. He remained an observer throughout, at most sensing their condition through the connection of the seeds when they were on the verge of death, waiting for the power they would give back by burning their lives.

He is not responsible for their choices, nor for their lives or deaths. They are the sparks he has sown in the world, and the brighter they burn, the longer he will live.

But this time is different.

He recalled the hatred in Chen Guohua's eyes when he looked at Wei Zixuan at the last moment as his life was burning brightly.

I recall the resolute way Han Xiao turned to Xu Suyuan and said "Live on" before activating the kinetic energy return to the void;

I recall the disappointment in Li Rui's eyes when he looked at the people from the Special Investigation Bureau before he turned into a raging inferno.

Those seeds were never tools he used to prolong his life; they were living, breathing people with their own pain, their own hatred, and their own things they wanted to protect.

They gave their lives, so why should he just be a cold-blooded bystander who reaps the benefits?

He can't bring himself to fight in the light.

This body, with its congenital heart disease, cannot even withstand strenuous exercise; the slightest stimulation could cause it to stop beating. Once exposed, it would be the first to die.

He valued his life more than anyone else, and he understood better than anyone else how important it was to be alive.

But he can stand in the deeper shadows and hand a knife to those who are fighting desperately in the light.

That night, Wen Yan took the initiative to use the seed's connection for the first time.

He didn't speak or explain, but simply lit two points of light deep within Xu Suyuan's consciousness, vaguely pushing the positions of Liu Zhen and Meng Zhaowen in front of her.

It's like pointing a direction to a lost person in the dark; how to go on the road, or whether to go at all, is entirely up to her.

He made the right bet.

Without hesitation, Xu Suyuan set off for Guangyang City that very day. At the most critical moment, she appeared on the ruins of Yunyin Manor and pulled the two people who had been driven to the brink of death back from the brink of death.

Wen Yan leaned back on the sofa and pressed his hand to his heart.

He jumped very steadily there, each jump full of power.

He could feel the faint warmth emanating from the three seeds, like three invisible threads that bound him firmly to the three people struggling in the darkness.

This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision.

He knows better than anyone what he's doing.

He looked down at his right hand, his five fingers slowly clenching and then relaxing.

The palms had no lines, were as pale as transparent jade, and the veins were clearly visible under the skin, flowing with warm blood.

Compared to the late-stage cancer patient he was before he transmigrated, who was lying in a hospital bed and had difficulty even turning over, he is much better now.

He can stand, walk, drink water and eat by himself, and even slowly climb three floors.

But compared to those hosts who risk their lives outside, he is still a cripple.

He can't rush things.

Wen Yan walked to the window and gently lifted a corner of the curtain with his fingertips, revealing a thin gap.

It was already daylight outside. People were coming and going in the alley. People were going to work and their bicycles were ringing. Children were going to school and chasing each other. The breakfast stalls were steaming, and the aroma of oil and soy milk filled the street.

It was the life of an ordinary person, the peace he desperately wanted to hold onto after he transmigrated.

He knew how much filth lurked beneath that calm surface.

Wei Donghai, Wang Hongyuan, the Five Mountains Society, and those parasites hidden deeper within, who treat human life as worthless, are like maggots clinging to the bones of this city, gnawing at the hopes of ordinary people and driving good people to their deaths.

Liu Zhen, Meng Zhaowen, and Xu Suyuan are not the first batch, nor will they be the last.

As long as those parasites are alive, more families will break apart and more people will fall into despair.

He doesn't need to stand in the light.

All he needs to do is, at the right time, hand a seed to those who have nowhere else to turn;

When they need companions, quietly point them in a direction;

When they are surrounded, lend a helping hand quietly.

He is the sower, the guide, the hand hidden in the shadows.

He drew the curtains shut again, blocking out the last ray of morning light.

The room fell into darkness again, with only the half-finished glass of water on the table still emitting faint steam.

Wen Yan sat back down on the sofa, closed his eyes, and his consciousness sank into the depths once more.

The seeds have been sown, and more than three have sprouted.

They will grow on their own, burn on their own, and find their own way.

He just needs to wait and give it another push at the right time.

……

Dawn was breaking over the ruins of Yunyin Manor.

Yue Sheng jumped off the armored vehicle, his boots making a dull thud as they stepped onto the still-warm gravel.

The morning breeze, carrying the smell of gunpowder and blood, blew over, making him wince.

He raised his hand, signaling the team members behind him to spread out and search, while he squatted down and picked up a one-yuan coin that had fallen to the ground.

The coin's edge was clean, without any bloodstains, except for a very faint indentation, as if it had been struck by something sharp.

He held the coin, turning it over and over to examine it twice, his brows furrowed into a deep knot.

"Captain Yue! There's something going on here!"

A teammate nearby called out, and Yue Sheng stood up and walked over.

At the corner of the collapsed main building, the bodies of eight mercenaries lay neatly arranged.

They were dressed in uniform black combat suits, their faces still showing expressions of terror, but their bodies had no obvious wounds except for a small, inconspicuous hole in their clothing near their hearts, with charred edges.

The team members lifted the clothes off one of the corpses; the skin on its chest was intact, with no external injuries, as if its heart had stopped beating for a moment.

"All the bodies are like this." The team member in charge of the autopsies squatted on the ground, holding a record board in his hand, his tone solemn. "A total of seventy-two bodies, most of them are like this, with small holes in the chest, no bleeding, no external injuries, the preliminary judgment is cardiac arrest."

"There are also twelve bodies that were struck by high-voltage electricity and were completely carbonized, consistent with the characteristics of the victims at Jingyuan Villa. Several other bodies were pierced by blunt force, with woody fibers at the edges of the wounds, probably caused by tree roots or something similar."

Yue Sheng's gaze swept over the ruins.

Shields and flamethrowers were scattered everywhere. The edges of the bulletproof shields showed signs of being melted by the high temperature. Holes from tree roots were left in the concrete debris. In the distance, high-voltage power poles lay crookedly on the ground, with wires hanging down and still sizzling with electric sparks.

The entire battlefield looked as if it had been plowed by two extreme forces: one side was charred black from the burning of lightning and fire, and the other side was the traces of roots and stems left by the rampant growth of plants, as well as the strangely dead corpses of mercenaries. Everything about it was eerie.