Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

"laugh--"

The bullet grazed Lin Shen's left cheek, leaving a deep bloodstain on his cheekbone. Warm blood flowed down his cheek, dripping onto his collar and spreading into a dark stain.

Lin Shen didn't dodge; he simply didn't have the strength to dodge.

His mental energy was completely depleted.

The excruciating pain in his temples felt like his skull was about to explode, his ears began to ring, and his vision became increasingly blurry. He even saw non-existent cracks in the walls and heard non-existent footsteps—signs of his own nervous system collapsing from overexertion.

He was no longer able to weave any more illusions, and could only lean against the cold iron door, breathing slightly heavily.

Yan Ke shook his head, shaking off the lingering hallucinations, and saw the bloodstains on Lin Shen's cheek, a cruel smile appearing on his face.

He walked over step by step, the gun barrel pointing back at Lin Shen's forehead, his finger on the final stroke of the trigger.

"No matter what kind of demon or monster you are, once you're dead, you're nothing." Yan Ke's voice carried a ruthless edge born of surviving a catastrophe. "In your next life, don't go against the Five Mountains Society."

Lin Shen stared at the dark muzzle of the gun.

He has done all he could: verified the effectiveness of the illusion and measured the upper limit of his current mental strength. The rest is beyond his control.

He even had time to mentally archive the experimental data from the previous experiment: the five-person synchronized illusion consumed 72% of his mental energy, the single-target high-resistance illusion failed to penetrate, and the mental energy threshold still needed to be improved.

However, beacon theory is not yet complete.

The teacher's instructions have not yet been fulfilled.

His right hand instinctively gripped the gap in the iron gate, while his left leg was already stretched to its limit—

Even if he were to exhaust his mental energy, even if it meant death, he would still rush out and plunge that three-centimeter utility knife into Yan Ke's carotid artery.

The experimental data has been recorded. Killing one more enemy is not a loss.

……

Just as Yan Ke's finger was about to pull the trigger, Xu Suyuan, who was hiding in the shadows of the wall, suddenly moved.

The pale blue seed deep within her consciousness suddenly felt slightly warm, as if it had been gently bumped by something.

That warmth was all too familiar; it was the same resonant frequency as that of Liu Zhen and Meng Zhaowen, like three strings tuned to the same pitch. If one of them vibrated, the other two would hum along with it.

Her gaze immediately fell on Lin Shen, who was leaning against the iron gate.

Yan Ke had already chambered his second shot, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The gaunt young man's cheek was still bleeding, but he didn't even flinch. The muscles in his left leg were taut and hard, and he looked like a bow drawn to its limit, ready to be shot out as an arrow at any moment.

The seeds won't choose the wrong person.

She had seen too many people driven to the brink of despair by the Five Mountains Alliance.

There was no hatred or fear in the eyes of the person in front of her, only a stubborn determination to accomplish something—exactly the same look in her eyes when she was trapped in the laboratory and silently chanted every day, "I must escape and avenge my grandmother."

It's worth saving.

Xu Suyuan's fingers silently reached for the coin at her waist, which had been polished to a shine. Her fingertips brushed against the jagged edges of the metal—a technique Han Xiao had taught her. The force and angle were just right, allowing her to dispel the illusion the moment she penetrated the cover and accurately hit the target's brainstem.

Yan Ke began to press down with his index finger.

Lin Shen exerted force with his left leg, his body suddenly tilting to the side, his right hand already reaching for the utility knife in his pocket.

"laugh--"

The sound of something cutting through the air was as faint as a needle.

A one-yuan coin emerged from the wall, gleaming with a pale blue light in mid-air, like a rapidly flying shooting star.

It passed through the gap in Yan Ke's arm as he held the gun, through the skin and muscles on the outside of his skull, and released its ethereal state the instant it touched the brainstem.

Yan Ke's finger froze on the trigger.

Before the cruel smile on his face could fade, he fell straight forward as if all his bones had been removed, his face slamming heavily onto the dusty cement floor with a dull thud.

The coin was embedded in his skull, with only a small circle of silver-white edge showing.

Lin Shen only managed to lunge halfway before losing his balance due to the sudden disappearance of his target.

He slammed his shoulder against the brick wall next to him, groaned in pain, and slid down the wall to sit on the ground, still clutching the utility knife he hadn't had time to pull out.

He abruptly turned his head to look in the direction the coin had come from.

In the darkness, a woman in a black coat slowly emerged from the concrete wall, her boots making no sound as they stepped on the broken glass.

Her face was hidden in the shadows, with only the faint light from the distant city lights reflected in the other coin she was spinning on her fingertip, cold as ice.

Lin Shen's body tensed up to its limit instantly.

A wave of dizziness surged up from the complete exhaustion of his mental energy, and the pain in his temples felt like it was splitting his skull open. He couldn't even see the woman's face clearly and could only instinctively reach for the utility knife in his pocket.

The woman didn't move; she simply opened her right palm.

A faint blue light shone in her palm, its temperature exactly the same as the warmth of the silver-white seed in his mind's eye.

Lin Shen's tense shoulders instantly relaxed.

He recognized the light.

It was a vibration that resonated with the seed in his sea of ​​consciousness; there was no hostility, they were of the same kind.

He loosened his grip on the utility knife, pulled his fingers out of his pocket, and nodded slightly to the woman.

Xu Suyuan withdrew the light from her palm, walked over to him, and squatted down.

She could clearly feel the faint resonance between the two seeds, like the wind chimes under the eaves swaying gently when the wind blows.

This feeling doesn't lie; the people chosen by the seeds are never the lackeys of the Five Mountains Alliance.

"You're badly injured."

She took a sterile cotton ball from the first aid kit at her waist and casually tossed it onto Lin Shen's lap.

Lin Shen looked down at the cotton ball on his leg, then looked up at the woman in front of him.

His hands trembled uncontrollably from exhaustion. He tried several times to press the cotton pad onto the wound on his cheekbone, but failed. Blood was still dripping down his chin, spreading a dark, damp stain on his collar.

Xu Suyuan reached out and pressed down on his wrist.

Her fingers were cool, but her pressure was steady as she pressed the cotton swab firmly onto the blood groove on his cheekbone.

The moment the wound was pressed, Lin Shen's body stiffened abruptly—he had never been used to physical contact with people since he was a child. He would dodge when the children in the orphanage touched his books, and he would instinctively shrink back when Song Yuanming patted his shoulder. But when this woman's hand was on his wrist, he had no intention of pulling away.

Xu Suyuan sensed his stiffness and immediately released her grip.

"Can we leave?" She leaned against the wall beside her, slowly twirling a coin between her fingers, her gaze sweeping over the five corpses on the ground, her ears listening for any sounds in the distance—the gunshots would likely attract the patrolling security, and she couldn't stay here any longer.