Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

"Huff... huff..."

As the adrenaline subsided, the frenzied rage that had fueled Chen Guohua's wielding of the knife gradually calmed down.

Once that single belief was achieved, the rationality of an ordinary person began to return. Looking at this scene of carnage, his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

Panic.

Even with extraordinary power, he was still an ordinary person killing for the first time.

The scene must be dealt with.

Chen Guohua gripped the hilt of the knife stuck in Zhao Xiaoya's chest tightly, trying to pull it out and take it with him.

This is an instinctive reaction—to dispose of the weapon.

He took a deep breath, clenched his right hand, and pulled upwards with force.

Not moving.

Chen Guohua was taken aback.

In the heat of the moment, I was stabbing around wildly without any strategy. Now that I've calmed down, I realize that the angle at which the blade pierced my skin was extremely tricky.

This cheap fruit knife has a thin blade, and it was already bent and deformed after repeatedly piercing flesh and clothing.

With this final strike, the blade embedded itself deeply into the dense bone in the center of the sternum, the twisted metal tip perhaps already hooked onto the inner edge of the rib.

It must be removed.

Chen Guohua gritted his teeth, pressed down on the corpse's shoulder with his left hand to stabilize the torso, and exerted force again with his right hand.

However, a large amount of blood had already flowed down the hilt of the knife and filled his palm; the semi-congealed blood had a very strong lubricating effect.

When he applied the pull, the handle slipped in his palm and he couldn't grip it properly.

It can't be pulled out.

It can't be pulled out at all.

Cold sweat streamed down Chen Guohua's forehead, mingling with the blood splattered on his face, stinging his eyes.

Just then, the faint sound of a police siren could be heard in the distance outside the window.

Although it was a distant background sound, and perhaps not even directed at this place, to Chen Guohua, who had just killed three people, it sounded like a death knell.

Panic gripped his heart in an instant.

He was ultimately just a patient driven to desperation, not a meticulous criminal.

The killing just now was fueled by a surge of anger and supernatural power. Now that the anger has dissipated, the fear and panic that followed instinctively surged up.

It's too late... What should I do?

fingerprint?

It must be covered in his fingerprints.

His fingerprints and dander were left not only on the knife handle, but also on the doorknob, the cabinet in the entryway, and even possibly on Li Xiulian's hair.

He wasn't wearing gloves at all.

If he were to clean it, he would have to turn the room upside down and wipe every inch of the place he had touched clean.

But time didn't allow it, and his condition didn't allow it either.

What does leaving fingerprints mean?

His mind was a complete mess, and he was incapable of logical reasoning. He only knew that the police would use this to find him, arrest him, bring him to trial, and then execute him.

Originally, according to his thoughts when he gained power, after killing this family of three, he should have died here, or been caught and shot by the police, thus ending the matter once and for all.

Anyway, he's a dying man, so exchanging his worthless life for the lives of three vicious dogs is worth it.

But now, he doesn't want to die.

At least, I can't die now.

"Wei Zixuan... Zhang Jingyi... Zhao Qiang..."

These three names swirled in his mind, burning like flames that made his soul tremble.

Zhao Xiaoya's dying confession was like a key, unlocking the next page of his revenge list.

The real culprits are still at large.

The rich second-generation Wei Zixuan who actually committed the atrocities, the lawyer Zhang Jingyi who used the law to distort the truth, and Zhao Qiang who remained greedy and shameless even while in detention.

This family of three was merely a tool in the hands of the evil man, a basin of dirty water poured on his daughter.

If I die like this, Xiaoyu's injustice will still not be cleared, and those real demons will still be reveling over Xiaoyu's corpse every night.

No.

No!

I have to survive.

I must continue my revenge!

Once this thought arose, it grew wildly like weeds on the bloody ruins, giving him the only guiding principle in this extreme chaos.

Chen Guohua calmed down strangely and loosened his grip on the knife handle.

The bloodstained fruit knife was still stubbornly embedded in Zhao Xiaoya's chest.

But he stopped trying to pull it out.

Because in that instant, a more insane, yet also more rational, plan took shape in his mind.

If one chooses to flee at this moment, or drags this fiercely burning body directly to find Wei Zixuan and Zhang Jingyi, there will only be one outcome—dying on the way.

Once he becomes a wanted criminal, the entire city's surveillance and police force will become obstacles for him.

He would have to hide like a rat in the sewers and dark corners, every second of his escape pointlessly wasting his remaining life force.

More importantly, the burning of life comes at a price.

This power was earned at the cost of lives.

If this state continues, he might turn into a skeleton within two days due to exhaustion of his life force.

He cannot die now, as he has not yet avenged himself.

If that's the case, why not take advantage of your biggest "disadvantage"?

In everyone's mind, Chen Guohua was a terminal uremia patient who couldn't even walk steadily.

It is impossible for a disabled person to cause such a horrific penetrating wound;

It is impossible for a disabled person to kill three adults in an instant.

If he returns to that dark corner and becomes that dying patient again, the fingerprints left at the scene will become the police's biggest puzzle.

The fingerprints suggest it was a homicide, but common medical knowledge tells everyone: that's impossible.

This "impossibility" is his best cover.

Rather than wandering around aimlessly like a headless fly, it's better to get back under the watchful eyes of the police.

In the hospital's supervised ward, he could receive free dialysis, barely cling to life, and most importantly—he could lie dormant in the shadows, quietly waiting for the moment when Wei Zixuan and Zhang Jingyi's whereabouts would be discovered.

Then, we will light the last remaining candle and deliver the fatal blow.

"Wait for me..."

Chen Guohua took one last look at the hellish crime scene, suppressed the nausea and dizziness, and with the last bit of control over his body remaining from [Life Burning], resolutely turned and left.

……

In a short while, the dilapidated outline of Building No. 4 on the old street came into view.

Avoiding the dim light at the entrance of the building, Chen Guohua quietly made his way up to the third floor.

Room 302.

He pushed open the door, and the familiar smell of medicine and mildew hit him.

This is his home, but also the "cage" he chose for himself.

Chen Guohua gently closed the door behind him, leaned against the door, and let out a long sigh.

"It's time..."

As the mind relaxed, the scorching torrent that had been forcibly maintained within the body instantly receded.

[Life Burning], deactivated.

"boom--"

The moment the power was withdrawn, the long-suppressed weakness surged back like a tsunami.

This is not just physical exhaustion, but a collapse caused by the forced depletion of vitality.

Chen Guohua's legs instantly lost their support, and he fell heavily to his knees in the entryway with a "thud".

That deep-seated bitterness once again took control of his body, even more intensely.

But he didn't make a sound; he even clenched his teeth and suppressed his groans.

The overwhelming pain brought him a sense of peace.

Because this is the best disguise.

With his last ounce of strength, he crawled back onto the peeling old sofa, curled up, and assumed the weakest and most harmless position.

My heartbeat gradually calmed down, and my breathing became weak and difficult.

Now, he is no longer the avenger who killed three people; he is just a pitiful father who lost his daughter and is now waiting to die in despair.

Time ticked by, second by second, in the suffocating silence and the smell of medicine.

Sudden--!

"Thump!"

The door frame twisted, the latch flew off, and the door of 302, along with part of the door hinges, was violently slammed open from the outside in by a tremendous force!

"Police! Don't move!"