Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Gu Mingyuan lifted his fingers from the table and flipped directly into Chen Guohua's file, the pages rustling. "Director Han, you said to make them stop. I'm asking you, do they want to stop?"

"Chen Guohua killed the entire Zhao family. Zhao Dayou and Li Xiulian were bribed to frame someone, but what about Zhao Xiaoya? A twenty-year-old girl, she was begging for mercy before she died. Her brother took the blame for her parents taking money, and she only said a few words of what her family taught her. She didn't deserve to die, did she? How did Chen Guohua kill her? He stabbed her seventeen times, avoiding vital organs with every stab, and made her suffer to death."

He then opened Xu Suyuan's file, his fingertip pointing to the autopsy report: "Xu Suyuan killed Li Wei in a back alley, beaten to death with bricks. The autopsy report clearly states that she was repeatedly struck on the head more than thirty times, not with a single fatal blow. She was venting her anger."

"Han Xiao killed Liu Mingyuan, his apprentice, who betrayed his itinerary. Han Xiao smashed him to death with a ventilation duct inspection cover, crushing his entire chest cavity; that was torture."

"Li Rui killed Zhang Ziqian, and the karmic fire burned him hundreds of times. Even after Zhang Ziqian was gone, the fire continued to burn him."

"Liu Zhen and Meng Zhaowen were at Yunyin Manor. There were seventy-two corpses. Some were pierced by electrified tree roots, and some were twisted into pieces by vines. They could not be pieced together at the scene."

"When Shen Qinghou killed Gu Yanzhi, his limbs were shattered by the sound waves, and his face was smashed. The autopsy report stated that he was repeatedly struck in the face seventeen times. When he killed Lao Zhang, all of his ribs were shattered, and bone fragments pierced his lungs, causing him to suffocate. When he killed Fang Heming, none of the twenty-three special agents survived; all of them had their brain tissue liquefied, and they died so badly that even their parents couldn't recognize them."

Gu Mingyuan closed the eight files one by one and pushed them forcefully to the center of the table. The sound was particularly jarring in the silent conference room: "Director Han, look at these ways of dying. Repeatedly beaten, repeatedly burned, crushed, limbs shattered, faces smashed."

This is not revenge! Revenge is an eye for an eye! This is torture! This is venting anger! This is using your enemy as a target for your rage, torturing them to death in the most cruel way!

He abruptly stood up, his hands gripping the table, leaning slightly forward, his eyes piercing Han Qiming like knives: "You say their motive was being driven to desperation? Fine, I accept that motive. But can motive explain everything? If someone is bullied and stabs back with a knife, that's self-defense. But if that's not enough, and they keep stabbing until the body is unrecognizable, that's bloodlust!"

"Each of these people had the ability to kill their target cleanly and efficiently, but they didn't. They chose the most painful, lengthy, and torturous method. Why? Because they tasted the sweetness of revenge."

The thrill of controlling others' lives, the thrill of watching enemies beg for mercy, the thrill of crushing everything with one's own power. Gu Mingyuan's voice lowered, each word deliberate, "These people are no longer victims. They are predators."

"After they've killed their enemies, will they stop? Chen Guohua died, did Xu Suyuan stop? No. She continued killing. Han Xiao died, did Xu Suyuan stop? No. She continued killing. Li Rui died, but his flame is still burning, infecting countless people. You all know better than I do how many."

Gu Mingyuan's gaze swept over everyone present. "Director Han, you said that accepting amnesty is about cutting losses. Let me ask you, are you talking about cutting losses with a group of people who have tasted blood and sweetness?"

"They can't stop. Not that they can't stop, but that they don't want to. Today they offer us amnesty, tomorrow their knives will be pointed at us."

The meeting room fell completely silent.

The official sitting on the left subconsciously pushed the file in front of him further away, his fingers retracting under the table, not daring to look at Han Qiming's face.

The recorder's pen stopped on the paper, and the ink dots grew larger and larger, soaking through half a page.

Han Qiming looked down at the eight files that Gu Mingyuan had pushed to the center of the table. Each file was closed, and the name tags on the backs gleamed coldly under the incandescent light.

He remained silent for a long time before slowly speaking: "You're right. Their methods were indeed cruel. Hundreds of burnings, repeated beatings, crushing, and shattering limbs—each of these actions crossed the line of revenge. These things cannot be denied."

"But Gu Mingyuan, the core argument of what you just said is that they can't stop. You used words like bloodthirsty, predator, and having tasted the sweetness. Let me ask you a question."

Han Qiming's finger landed on the seventh file, the tip precisely in the center of the three characters "Shen Qinghou." "Shen Qinghou killed Gu Yanzhi, killed Old Zhang, and killed Fang Heming. When he killed Fang Heming, who was left on his list of enemies?"

Gu Mingyuan's fingers gripped the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles turning bluish-white.

"You." Han Qiming's voice was calm, yet it was like a stone thrown into the frozen air. "A hunter you described as insatiable, a bloodthirsty madman who tasted blood and found its sweetness, stopped after killing Fang Heming, when there was only one name left on your list of enemies. Why?"

"You can't answer this question. Because you're afraid to answer it. You're afraid to admit that Shen Qinghou killed Gu Yanzhi because Gu Yanzhi ruined his life."

Old Zhang was killed because he intercepted his mother's appeal materials and accepted bribes from the Gu family. Fang Heming was killed because Fang Heming tortured Chen Zhiyuan to death, the man who committed suicide by swallowing his pen to protect him.

"He killed everyone for a specific reason." Han Qiming looked at Gu Mingyuan's stiff face. "You said they tasted the sweetness. What was Shen Qinghou's sweetness? Was it being wanted throughout the city?"

"What you just said described superhumans as a bunch of out-of-control lunatics. This description has one advantage: lunatics don't need to be understood, they just need to be eliminated. In that case, there's no need to discuss appeasement."

Han Qiming paused, his eyes sharp as knives, "What you're truly afraid of isn't that they won't stop. What you're afraid of is that they'll stop. Because once Shen Qinghou stops, your next target will be you. Am I right?"

The air in the conference room froze completely.

The official on the left leaned back in his chair, avoiding Gu Mingyuan's gaze, and pretended to be looking at the notebook in his hand.

Gu Mingyuan stood still, his hands still supporting him on the table, his shoulders taut like a fully drawn bow.

He didn't look at anyone; his gaze was fixed on the eight closed files in the center of the table. The name tag on the seventh file reflected a cold light under the lamp, stinging his eyes.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately no sound came out.

My fingers loosened one by one from the edge of the table, leaving several whitish marks on my knuckles.

He slowly sat back in his chair, his back still straight, but his shoulders had slumped.

His right hand instinctively reached for the inner pocket of his chest, where he kept his son Gu Yanzhi's keepsake—half a gold medal that had been shattered by Shen Qinghou's sonic waves, its sharp edges digging into his chest with pain.

He pressed his fingertip against the fabric, then slowly lowered it.