Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Then I turned on Lao Yan's computer.

The screen lit up, and the desktop was clean, with only a few folders. The file names were self-explanatory—Logistics Intelligence, Security Deployment, Chemical Raw Material Bulk Cargo Channels, Wuyuehui Movements, Xiongbei Movements, and Chiji Movements.

The intelligence network built up over twenty years is all in this computer.

Shen Hanzhou pulled an unopened USB drive from a drawer and plugged it into the computer. He moved his fingers across the touchpad, copying the entire intelligence database into it.

Folders were dragged one by one into the storage space of the USB drive—a list of logistics line contacts, contact information for suppliers of bulk cargo channels, coordinates of the known strongholds of the three major forces in Gwangyang City, the shift change pattern of the outer security guards, and the timetable of smuggling channels.

The copy progress bar has reached the end.

He unplugged the USB drive and held it in his hand. The plastic casing still felt brand new, as if it had just been taken out of its packaging.

This USB drive now contains Senior Sister Shen Yanhui's complete experimental records, the drug formula with the correct parameters known only to him, and the intelligence network of Guangyang City's underworld over the past twenty years.

These three things are all his trump cards.

He shut down his computer, walked out through the back door, and closed the door behind him.

The alley was quiet. The air in the old town smelled of coal smoke in the evening, and the distant sound of a scrap collector's loudspeaker drifted through the low buildings.

Shen Hanzhou's figure disappeared at the end of the alley, his footsteps carried away by the wind.

------

Half a minute later, footsteps were heard outside the back door.

The three people stopped in the alley.

The leader squatted by the door, stubbed out his cigarette against the wall, and the sparks went out in the cracks between the bricks. He drew his gun from his waist and glanced back at the two men behind him.

He's thirty-one this year, his name is Ah Kun, and he's been with Lao Yan for six years. He's the oldest of the three, the best marksman, and the bravest. Lao Yan always calls on him first when he has a side job—Ah Kun is reliable, and he doesn't hesitate when it's time to act.

He lowered his voice and said, "I fucking memorized it all. Brother Yan said the target is Shen Hanzhou. Just keep him under control, don't kill him. Eighty million, he's only valuable alive."

The man behind him holding the crowbar nodded. His name was Ahui, twenty-four years old. Three years ago, he got into trouble for helping someone sell stolen goods, and Lao Yan took care of the police for him. Since then, he had been working for Lao Yan, never asking why.

His heart was pounding tonight, and his right eyelid had been twitching ever since he received the news. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong, but he had a vague feeling that the person with the 80 million bounty shouldn't be someone the three of them could touch.

The one with the machete was standing at the very back. He was Xiao Jie, the youngest, in his early twenties. He usually did odd jobs for Lao Yan at the repair shop, serving tea and water, sweeping, and moving goods. The anti-slip tape on the handle of the machete had just been wrapped on yesterday.

This was his first off-duty job with Lao Yan. It wasn't cold, but his legs were trembling slightly.

Ah Kun pointed his gun down and said, "Enter through the back door. Don't make a sound. Xiao Jie to the left, Ah Hui to the right, I'll face him from the front. He doesn't have any heavy weapons, don't panic. Panicking will make you look bad."

Xiao Jie gripped the crowbar tighter, and Ahui swallowed hard.

Ah Kun kicked open the back door, yelling, "Brother Yan! Where is he?!"

He rushed in first, his gun pointed towards the counter. Xiao Jie followed closely behind, circling around to the left of the counter, shouting, "Block the front door! Don't let him—"

The words were stuck in my throat.

The three of them saw the human head embedded in the cement floor in front of the counter at the same time.

Old Yan's face bulged out of the iron-gray cement. His features were distorted, his mouth was wide open, and his eyes bulged out. It was as if he was still desperately inhaling air the moment he was sealed inside.

The expression on his face, the last second before his death—extreme fear and the struggle for survival, all frozen in the iron-gray cement.

The repair shop fell silent for a second.

Xiao Jie was the first to react, leaping back a step. The crowbar slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground with a sharp crack. He immediately cursed, "Damn! Damn! What the hell is this—Brother Yan!"

Ahui's machete fell to his sides. The blade struck the concrete, and his lips trembled as he struggled to utter a coherent sentence: "He—he's dead—Brother Yan is dead—"

Ah Kun stared at Old Yan's severed head, his hands trembling. He had seen dead people, corpses after pyres, and executed traitors. But he had never seen a person sealed alive in a concrete floor, with only their head protruding.

His mind was still racing. He lowered his voice and growled, "Don't shout! Shen Hanzhou might still be nearby!"

Ah Kun slowly moved inwards, close to the wall, scanning the area behind the counter, the corner of the shelf, and the crack in the bathroom door with the gun.

His heart pounded with each corner he passed, his palms were sweaty, and the grip of his gun was damp. After searching the last corner, he straightened up, his voice hoarse: "Nobody here. Let's go."

Xiao Jie squatted in the corner, clutching his hair with both hands, his voice shrill and urgent: "I told you we couldn't take this job! Is someone with an 80 million bounty even a normal person?! Brother Yan just wouldn't listen! He just wouldn't listen!"

Ahui leaned against the wall, his legs still trembling. He stared at the severed head on the ground, swallowing hard. "How did he kill him? Bullets can't produce this effect—how did he manage to get the person into the concrete?"

Ah Kun didn't respond.

He tucked the gun back into his belt, walked over to Old Yan's body, and squatted down. He reached out and tapped the layer of iron-gray cement that sealed the head.

Cement has an extremely high density, and when you tap it, it makes a solid, dull sound.

Ah Kun withdrew his hand, his expression even more grim. This wasn't a gun, not a knife, not any weapon he had ever seen before.

This was something he didn't understand. Shen Hanzhou was not someone the three of them could handle; even thirty more wouldn't be enough to fill the gap.

He looked down at the human head embedded in the ground, remaining silent for two seconds. His voice was low and deep: "Brother Yan, don't blame us. We followed you while you were alive, and we have to live if you die."

After saying that, he reached into Lao Yan's pocket, took out his wallet, and stuffed all the cash into his own pocket.

Xiao Jie, who was squatting in the corner, was stunned when he saw A Kun's actions: "Brother Kun, you—"

Ah Kun didn't even turn his head, his hands never stopping.

He pulled open the cabinet drawer and swept all the valuables inside into his backpack, muttering, "Do you think the three of us can mess with someone with an 80 million bounty? Even Brother Yan himself got caught. What are we going to use to fight them? Crowbars? Machetes?"

Xiao Jie opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything. He glanced down at the fallen crowbar on the ground, then at Lao Yan's head, and suddenly stood up.

He rushed to the counter, stuffing his phone and spare phone into his pocket faster than Ah Kun, cursing under his breath: "Damn it, I didn't want to die either! Brother Yan insisted on taking this job, saying it was 80 million! Even 80 million was worth it if he was alive to spend it! Now look what happened, I'm dead, and I'm dead too—"

Ahui stood there for a moment, then followed suit.

He went around to the back of the cabinet, pried open the safe, and stuffed all the cash and gold bars inside into his backpack. As he packed, he muttered to himself, his voice trembling violently, "Brother Yan said Shen Hanzhou is just a pharmacist. A pharmacist sealing someone in cement? He's swindled us all... I knew this deal was off..."