Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

The staff rushed to the sound control panel and reached out to press the main switch.

Lin Shen's mental energy acted like a thin veil over his vision and touch. The switch shifted ten centimeters to the right in his field of vision, and his hand precisely pressed down on the blank tabletop.

His fingertips touched the cold countertop, and thinking he had pressed a light switch, he pressed it five times in a row. Turning around, he shouted to Deputy Director Zhang, "Director Zhang, the switch is malfunctioning!"

Deputy Director Zhang rushed over and personally went to unplug the main line behind the mixing console.

He reached for the plug, pinched the air about three centimeters away from it with his fingertips, and tried to pull it out forcefully. He pulled three times, his knuckles turning white from the effort, but he couldn't pull anything out.

Confusion crossed his face, then turned into fear. He abruptly raised his hand to rub his eyes, then tried to pull them out again, but they were still empty.

Another staff member rushed to the broadcast equipment and reached out to press the power button. His finger pressed the outer casing next to the power button seven or eight times in a row, but the indicator light on the equipment was still on, showing no sign of turning off.

He turned around, his voice trembling: "It can't be turned off, it just won't turn off."

Zhou Weiqing's voice continued from the speakers: "How should the budget of 60 million be divided? I submitted 60 million, and the province approved 60 million. This money is all thanks to my abilities, Zhou Weiqing. Tell Vice Director Zhang that he won't get his share, but don't keep urging him like he's on his deathbed."

The cigarette in Director Qian's hand fell onto the tablecloth in the third row, burning a black hole. The embers slowly ignited the tablecloth fibers. He stared at Zhou Weiqing on the stage, his lips trembling, not even noticing the cigarette burning his fingers.

"Careful? How could he not be careful when he took the money? Last year, two million in cash, in three installments, was processed through his brother-in-law's company. The receipts are still locked in my office drawer. Tell him that if things really come to a head, my possessions will be enough to make him suffer."

Deputy Director Zhang's face turned from deathly pale to ashen, and he swayed, only managing to steady himself by grabbing the table beside him.

"Director Wu's equipment contract was for six million, but the actual value of the delivered equipment was at most two million. He split the remaining one million with the supplier. The account number ends in 6688, and they just received eight hundred thousand last month."

Director Wu sprang to his feet, his face turning purple, and roared at Zhou Weiqing on the stage, "Bullshit!"

The voice from the speaker continued, carrying a casual, amused tone: "Should I give you the full card number?"

Director Wu opened his mouth but didn't say anything more. He swayed slightly, grabbed the back of the chair in front of him, and almost fell off the chair because his legs went weak.

The comment section was flooded with messages so fast the naked eye couldn't keep up, each one brimming with overwhelming anger: "Corrupt official!" "Death penalty!" "Let him finish!" "Holy crap, this is the premiere?! My God!"

The scene in the hallucination changed again.

Zhou Weiqing stood at the end of the corridor of the research institute. It was already completely dark. Only the green light of the emergency exit was on in the corridor, and the green light fell on Song Yuanming's face.

Song Yuanming held a stack of experimental data in his arms, the edges of the pages slightly curled by the wind. There was no anger on his face, only confusion, the kind of confusion one feels after being stabbed in the back by the person they trusted most, a confusion they just can't understand.

"Senior brother, why did you do this?"

Zhou Weiqing leaned against the wall, crossed her arms, and looked down at Song Yuanming.

The toes of the leather shoes in the corridor rubbed against the floor tiles. After a long silence, he spoke softly, as if he were talking about a small matter from many years ago.

"You ask me why?"

"From the first day I entered the research institute, everyone said that Zhou Weiqing was good, but Song Yuanming was a genius."

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the empty corridor, carrying a hint of unspoken mockery.

"Genius. Ha."

"You are smarter than me, work harder than me, and deserve all of this more than I do."

"What am I supposed to do? Applaud you? Make way for you? Watch you win projects, get titles, and be called Professor Song or Mr. Song, while I carry your bags behind you?"

His voice gradually rose, and the resentment in his tone finally erupted like a volcano that had been accumulating for more than a decade.

"I spent three years. The academic committee spread rumors about you, and the review committee personally labeled your project as '…'" "Questionable." "In three years, your funding was cut in half, and you even had to be careful with money for lab supplies."

"Then the Five Mountains Society contacted me and asked if I wanted to cooperate. I provided them with your project information and told them that your project had extraordinary application value. They helped me get rid of you, and in the end, your research results belonged to me."

"I signed the report, I received the award, and I was also nominated for academician."

In reality, Zhou Weiqing stood in front of the microphone, his voice gradually rising from a light tone, exposing his ruthlessness and viciousness to everyone without reservation.

No one in the room spoke; only the sound from the speakers struck each person's heart clearly. The chilling feeling of someone's life being ruined simply because of jealousy crept up their spine, making them feel cold all over.

Some people covered their mouths, looking at Zhou Weiqing on the stage as if he were a living demon.

Someone secretly took out their phone and searched for Song Yuanming's name and photo.

The person in the photo has gray hair, wears black-rimmed glasses, and smiles slightly at the camera. The image overlaps with the figure in the white coat that Zhou Weiqing described. Below the photo, someone is updating every word Zhou Weiqing said in real time, and the number of reposts increased by 100,000 in one minute.

The scene in the hallucination changed again.

Zhou Weiqing stood at the laboratory door, his hand on the doorknob.

The lab lights were on, and Song Yuanming sat at the workbench running data. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, and his fingers tapped away on the keyboard.

Zhou Weiqing pushed open the door, walked to the voltage regulator, and placed his hand on the metal casing.

Song Yuanming looked up at him, his face still showing signs of fatigue from staying up all night: "Senior brother, you're still here so late."

Zhou Weiqing didn't turn around, his fingers touching the plastic casing of the overload protection switch: "Just came to see you."

Song Yuanming stared at his retreating figure for a long time before finally stopping his typing: "Senior brother, did you do something?"

"no."

Zhou Weiqing pried open the protective switch casing with his fingers, his fingertips touching the metal plate inside. With a gentle snap, the metal plate popped open with a soft sound, which was exceptionally clear in the quiet laboratory.

At that moment, he was thinking: It's over.

After tomorrow, no one will compare me to him anymore.

He turned and walked towards the door, his hand on the doorknob, when Song Yuanming's voice came from behind him: "Weiqing."

Zhou Weiqing's hand paused for a moment on the doorknob.

He found out.

At the very last moment, he knew it was me, knew that it was me who did all of this.

So what?

You know now, you're dead too.

I am alive.

Your research is mine, your position is mine, everything you have is mine.

He didn't turn around and slammed the laboratory door shut.

The moment the metal door slammed shut, a loud crash came from behind, and flames burst out from the crack in the door.