Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Lin Shen opened the car door, and the morning breeze blew in, carrying a refreshing coolness.

A red banner hangs in front of the State Guest Hotel, billowing in the wind. It reads in yellow letters, "Warm congratulations on the phased achievements of the neurorehabilitation project."

Every word was written on Song Yuanming's bones. Lin Shen knew that every line of code and every algorithm module in this project was copied verbatim from the teacher's unpublished notes.

Guests dressed in formal attire walked through the revolving door one after another, some taking photos under the banner with big smiles on their faces.

Lin Shen stood across the street, looking at those smiling faces, his fingers rubbing the folding knife in his coat pocket. The cool touch of the handle crept up his fingertips, suppressing the restlessness in his heart.

He quickly scanned the security layout: two security guards at the entrance, a reception desk in the lobby, and no metal detectors.

Each time the revolving door turns, the golden frame reflects the rising sun, and the light spots sweep across Lin Shen's face as if grazed by a cold blade.

He crossed the street and headed towards the side entrance of the hotel.

My steps were neither fast nor slow, the soles of my shoes treading on the asphalt road.

Someone will die here today.

It's not just physical death, but a more thorough kind of death than just physical death.

After today, Zhou Weiqing's name will no longer be "recipient of the Provincial Science and Technology Progress Outstanding Contribution Award" or "a highly respected academic leader".

It will become synonymous with plagiarist, betrayer, and murderer.

What Lin Shen had to do was to tear off the mask that Zhou Weiqing had sewn himself for ten years in public.

He has made his decision.

A black sedan stopped at the hotel's main entrance, and the driver got out and went around to the back seat to open the door.

Lin Shen stood in the shadows of the side door, his gaze piercing through the glass of the revolving door and locking onto the car.

Zhou Weiqing got off the bus.

He was over fifty years old, with his gray hair neatly combed, his dark blue suit perfectly pressed without a single wrinkle, and his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting the morning sun. He wore the badge of the Provincial Institute of Biology on his chest.

He straightened up, raised his hand to adjust the hem of his suit jacket, and moved with composure.

Officials from the Science and Technology Department stepped forward, and Zhou Weiqing extended his hand, shook hands, and smiled.

The curve of his lips was just right, a perfect blend of humility and confidence, like that of anyone who stands at the top.

Reporters surrounded him with their cameras, but Zhou Weiqing stepped aside to let his team members behind him pass, gesturing with his hand as if to say, "The credit belongs to everyone." The sound of camera shutters clicking filled the air.

Lin Shen looked at his face, and there wasn't a single flaw on it.

The person who spread rumors at the academic committee meeting seven years ago, the person who made a phone call in the hallway six years ago saying, "If he becomes our project, we're finished,"

The person who stabbed me in the back five years ago as a senior colleague, and the person who hypocritically said "science belongs to everyone" in the cafeteria four years ago...

The person who signed the "irregular operation" conclusion three days after the explosion, the person who erased all traces of Song Yuanming six months ago—

I am standing in front of the hotel right now, receiving everyone's respect.

Lin Shen's fingernails dug into his palm, the stinging sensation bringing him back to his senses.

Zhou Weiqing and his entourage stepped through the revolving door and disappeared into the depths of the lobby.

Lin Shen emerged from the shadows of the side door and followed.

Illusion Weaving!

When his ability is activated, his cognitive blind spot covers him, and the gazes of those around him sweep over his body as if they were sweeping over a mass of insignificant air.

Zhou Weiqing's laughter came from ahead, mixed with the noisy voices of the crowd.

Lin Shen didn't need to hear the content clearly; he had heard this person's voice enough, and today he would make that voice disappear forever.

He maintained a distance of fifteen meters, following the laughter. The silver-white seed deep within his consciousness was slightly boiling, and his spiritual power was like a reservoir filled with water, just waiting for the moment to be released.

Take the emergency exit to the third floor, push open the side door of the banquet hall, and slip inside.

The warm light from the crystal chandelier filled the entire hall, and more than a dozen round tables were filled with people, numbering about a hundred.

The main table was located closest to the stage, with Zhou Weiqing in the head seat. To his left was the deputy director of the Science and Technology Department, and to his right was the chairman of the cooperating company.

Lin Shen stood in the corner, his illusion covering him as a waiter's uniform, holding an empty tray, unnoticed by anyone.

He saw Zhou Weiqing raise his glass and clink glasses with the deputy director, the red wine casting a pale purple arc on the glass.

He saw Zhou Weiqing turn to the side and whisper to the chairman next to him, who nodded repeatedly.

He saw Zhou Weiqing stand up and walk to the next table, bend down and shake hands with the white-haired old scholar. The old scholar patted him on the shoulder, and Zhou Weiqing smiled and shook his head, his posture impeccably humble.

Lin Shen observed every movement.

These actions, this position on the stage, this glass of wine, this hall full of respect—all of these should have belonged to Teacher Song.

Zhou Weiqing took these clothes off Teacher Song and wore them for half a year until they fit him perfectly, as if they were born to be his.

But that's clearly not the case.

Lin Shen dug his nails deeper, and beads of blood seeped out, but he was completely unaware.

It's not time to take action yet.

Awards will be presented.

Wait until he stands in front of the microphone.

When the most people's attention is on him.

At 10:00 AM sharp, the host walked onto the stage, microphone in hand, beaming: "Distinguished leaders and guests, the next part of our day is the most exciting segment—the Provincial Science and Technology Progress Outstanding Contribution Award Ceremony! Please welcome Vice Director Zhang of the Provincial Department of Science and Technology to present the award to Professor Zhou Weiqing!"

Applause erupted instantly, and someone stood up.

Deputy Director Zhang walked onto the stage, holding a gold medal and a red certificate, and said with a smile, "Professor Zhou Weiqing has dedicated himself to the field of neural signal decoding for more than ten years, achieving original breakthroughs and filling a gap in this area in our province. This award is well-deserved!"

The words "more than ten years" pierced Lin Shen's temple like needles.

That was Song Yuanming's more than ten years of hard work, countless sleepless nights, and writing hundreds of thousands of lines of code. In the end, Zhou Weiqing stripped it off, wrapped it around himself, and used it as a stepping stone to climb up the ladder.

The applause grew louder.

Zhou Weiqing got up from his seat, straightened the hem of his suit jacket, and walked towards the stage.

As he walked down the aisle, people on both sides reached out to shake his hand, and he responded to each one with a composed gait, his gray hair gleaming softly under the crystal chandelier.

He went on stage, received the medal and certificate from the deputy director, shook hands, took photos, and was blinded by a barrage of flashing lights.

Zhou Weiqing held the medal in both hands, raising it to his chest. The golden light reflected on his face, and he smiled humbly yet confidently.

Then he stood in front of the microphone, reached out to adjust the microphone height, and cleared his throat.

The whole place fell silent.

He began, his voice carrying throughout the hall through the speakers, clear and articulate, with the gentle warmth characteristic of a scholar: "Thank you for the trust of the Provincial Department of Science and Technology, thank you for the support of our partner companies, and thank you to my team. This honor belongs to everyone who has contributed to this..."

Lin Shen stared intently at the constantly opening and closing mouth.

He could no longer hear what was being said.

His entire focus is now on his own consciousness.

The brightness of the silvery-white seed deep within his consciousness began to rise, and his mental energy, like an extremely fine needle, pierced through the air, through Zhou Weiqing's skull, and precisely entered his nervous system.

Just thinking about what would happen next made Lin Shen's fingertips tremble with excitement.