Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Zhou Zhengqing sat near the door, his combat uniform still stained with the bloodstains of Shikan Village.

His face was bluish-black from not sleeping for seventy-two consecutive hours.

He was sitting opposite Han Qiming, connected via video call.

Next to the main screen was an even larger screen displaying aerial footage of Shikan Village.

The crimson column of mist slowly rolled in the center of the image, like a crimson eye hanging over Zhaoming City.

"Let me briefly explain the situation."

Han Qiming spoke, his tone flat and without any preamble.

"The first top priority case after the establishment of the National Center for Response to Abnormal Affairs was handled in less than 24 hours."

The suspect committed another crime, resulting in the deaths of 127 people.

The death toll exceeds the total number of deaths and injuries in all previous cases involving the six extraordinary individuals in Lieyang Province.

The Political Affairs Committee held an emergency meeting overnight and characterized the incident as a "major and extraordinary terrorist attack".

They also demanded that we produce results within 48 hours.

The conference room was deathly silent.

Forty-eight hours.

Zhou Zhengqing repeated the number, his voice sounding like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth.

"It has been less than 72 hours since he awakened in the Song Dynasty, and he has already killed 173 people."

He will continue killing. He still has enemies he hasn't killed off.

Including the other two judges mentioned by Zhao Dehai, and the two security guards who helped his wife fabricate testimony back then,

The petition office staff suppressed his appeal materials.

We've taken all these people to a safe house, but they'll have to come out eventually.

As long as the Song Dynasty exists outside, these people will live in perpetual fear.

"So we need to capture him within forty-eight hours."

Han Qiming interrupted him.

"But the probability of capturing him alive is already very low."

You have all read the on-site investigation report for Shikan Village.

His bloodline abilities have evolved to the point where he can simultaneously manipulate the blood of hundreds of people.

The coverage area reached at least the entire village area.

That area has a diameter of over 500 meters.

Any conventional combat force within this range would instantly lose its combat effectiveness.

"so--"

Zhou Zhengqing raised his head.

Should we change our strategy?

Han Qiming did not answer directly.

He pressed a button on the remote control, and the image on the big screen changed.

Two people appeared on the screen.

An elderly man sat in a wheelchair, his hair gray, his back ramrod straight.

A middle-aged man sat on the sofa, holding a teacup in both hands, his fingers as rough as sandpaper.

"This is Song Dynasty's junior high school teacher and his distant cousin."

Han Qiming's voice was very low.

"They are willing to cooperate with us."

Zhou Zhengqing suddenly raised his head.

"You want to persuade them to surrender?"

"This isn't a question of whether I want to or not."

Han Qiming's expression was very unpleasant.

"It was a decision made by the Political Affairs Committee."

The committee assessed the threat level of the Song Dynasty overnight and concluded that it was SSS level.

This means it possesses the capability to cause regional destruction, which conventional armed forces cannot effectively counter.

"There have only been two SSS-level superhumans since the founding of the nation."

The first was Li Rui from Lieyang Province, who infected the entire city with his self-immolation.

The second is the Song Dynasty.

"Li Rui set himself on fire. But the Song Dynasty still exists. He's currently near Zhaoming City, and he still has at least seven or eight enemies on his target list."

If we continue the pursuit, he will kill more people.

If we were to encircle and annihilate them, our casualties would be unbearable.

If pushed to the brink, he might unleash a devastating ultimate ability like Li Rui.

The blood mist hanging over Shikan Village is the best evidence; his power is on the verge of spiraling out of control.

No one spoke in the meeting room.

Everyone looked grim.

But no one refuted it.

Because the aerial footage of Shikan Village was displayed right next to the screen, that blood mist was the best evidence.

"Therefore, persuade them to surrender."

Han Qiming said, emphasizing each word.

"Give him a way out. Let him turn himself in, surrender his abilities, and accept legal trial. In exchange, promise not to sentence him to death, promise a full review of his case, and promise to hold all those involved criminally liable."

"This is the biggest concession the country can make."

Zhou Zhengqing clenched his fist.

He knew Han Qiming was right.

I know it's right rationally, but I just can't accept it emotionally.

A man who has killed nearly two hundred people should not only not be killed, but should also be given a way out.

This is a betrayal of the dead.

But if we don't do this, there will be even more deaths.

Will he accept?

Li Cheng suddenly spoke up.

His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.

"I checked all the records of the Song Dynasty. He never left himself a way out from beginning to end."

He never intended to live when he killed the first person.

He's still on the run because he still has enemies to kill.

After he's done killing, what will he do? Wait for us to catch him?

Or should I do what Li Rui did and save one last shot for myself?

No one answered.

Everyone knows the answer.

Would someone who isn't even afraid of death lay down their butcher's knife just because of a promise not to be sentenced to death?

"Give it a try."

Han Qiming closed his eyes, his voice filled with unconcealed exhaustion.

"We have to give it a try."

At 3 p.m. that day, a video quietly appeared on various online platforms of the Star Federation.

There are no official signs at the beginning of the video.

There was no national emblem, no spokesperson, and no background music.

There is only a pure white background and two ordinary people sitting in front of the camera.

The old man was wearing a faded gray shirt with frayed edges at the collar, and every button was fastened meticulously.

His hair was completely white, sparsely combed back, revealing a wrinkled forehead.

He sat in a wheelchair, his lumbar disc herniation making it almost impossible for him to stand, but his back was straight, like an old tree that had been bent by wind and frost but had stubbornly straightened up again.

"Song Dynasty".

The old man spoke.

His voice was old, hoarse from seventy years of hardship, but his enunciation was clear, each word distinct, as if he were standing on a platform lecturing to his students.

"I am your junior high school Chinese teacher, Ms. Meng Zhaowen. You should still remember me."

"I remember you used to sit in the last row of the classroom by the window. You were never late for class and never missed a day of homework."

I've taught you for three years, and you've never broken a single rule in class.

You are the most honest student in the class.

"Once, you were cornered and beaten in the bathroom by several male classmates from the next class. After they finished, you squatted in the corner and rubbed your wounds."

I confiscated your notebook and saw blood on it. I asked you what happened, and you said you tripped and fell.

The old man paused for a moment, his lips trembling slightly.

I later found out that you were beaten up.

I went to the next class, dragged those boys out, and made them apologize to you in front of the whole class.

You were standing behind me, head down, ears so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

You told me, "Teacher, let it go, don't bother with them."