Life and Value

"Life really is fragile." In the dim bar, Xiao An stood in a pool of blood, gazing at the gruesome scene before him. It was as if a storm had torn through, leaving nothing but ruin in its wake. Mangled corpses were strewn in disarray across the floor and over tables, or plastered against the walls—a sickening tangle of viscera, flesh, and blood. From just outside the doorway came the faint sound of retching. A young officer stood pale-faced, clutching the cordon tape with trembling hands, pulling so hard it threatened to snap. "Goddammit, who brought a rookie? Go puke somewhere else! Don't contaminate the scene!" The sergeant in charge of the site barked his usual reprimand, but halfway through, he caught himself. His voice stalled, and his irritation only deepened. "...Fuck it, whatever, puke all you want. Not like this goddamn scene is good for jack shit anyway." A crime scene? What good was a crime scene here? Even if they had airtight physical evidence and eyewitnesses, which cop would dare walk up to Lei Yaoxing and slap handcuffs on him? Someone with more balls than the Police Commissioner himself? Even if that cop didn't fear death, didn't he care about his whole family being wiped out? "Fuck your mother's cunt! Fight, go on and fight! It's all dog eat dog anyway—sooner or later your whole families will end up dead!" The stout sergeant spat a mouthful of red betel nut juice onto the floor, turned, and headed out. "Chief, aren't we going to inspect the scene?" his subordinate asked blankly. "Inspect it for what?" The sergeant glanced back coldly. "To uphold justice? What's the fucking point of putting on an act? Hurry up and finish the paperwork so we can call the water trucks to wash the street!" What was there to look at? Hadn't they seen enough? Ever since they were first dispatched three days ago, everyone had grown completely numb. Over the past few days, aside from the main thoroughfares of Yacheng, what dark alley hadn't seen gang clashes? What ditch didn't have a bloated floater soaking in it? Word was that at night down by the North River estuary, vans from several different gangs lined up along the riverbank to dump heavy plastic bags, as bustling as a morning street market. Was business that bad for the gangs that they couldn't even afford the garbage disposal fee? Everyone's eyes were bloodshot from the slaughter. They had gone completely mad. On land, the Quancheng Gang, Shenghe, Yiwu, New Yiwu, Helian, the Righteousness Union, the Tiger Heart Society—dozens of major syndicates and countless foot soldiers spent every day scheming to make a name for themselves and pull off something big. Out at sea, smugglers and contraband pill-pushers had begun sharpening their knives as well. Over the years, Lei Wuye had gathered fourteen godchildren and sworn children. Four had died long ago. Of the remaining ten, two had gone straight and washed their hands of the underworld, no longer dabbling in syndicate affairs—yet one had still been hacked to death right at his own doorstep, while the other had fled overnight to Chaocheng, though whether he could survive remained to be seen. Of the eight that remained, one had already been sent to the hospital room next to their godfather's by a dump truck, barely clinging to life. Between the other seven, there was nothing left to say. They had turned on each other completely. It was kill or be killed. Only now did everyone dare believe that Lei Wuye, the old ghost, truly had one foot in the grave. Even if he wanted to bait a trap, nobody blew up their own fishpond just for fun. After wave upon wave of upheaval, all the rules were shattered, the world was in chaos, and authority had utterly collapsed. Even if he were to open his eyes right now, climb out of bed, and stand before everyone saying, "Children, I'm back!" probably no one would give a damn about him anymore. Those filial sons and daughters who once fawned over him might well come at him with watermelon knives to split his skull open and ask, *Old dog, why the fuck didn't you die sooner?* The once clear and rigid food chain had completely disintegrated with the fall of the rotting whale. The surviving beasts gorged on the putrid carcass and foul blood, glaring at that highest seat, looking at the rivals scrambling up alongside them, their claws and fangs fully bared. This war in the dark had only just begun... "Everyone is so boring." An Ran murmured to himself as he stared at the bloodstains on the wall. He couldn't understand it. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Why did everyone keep slaughtering one another for no reason, fighting to the bitter end? Not that slaughtering one another to the death was necessarily bad, but aside from killing, wasn't there anything else to do? They didn't carry the surname An. There were so many more meaningful things to do in this world. Their lives had endless choices, yet they insisted on picking the absolute worst one. They did it to make money, yet they sold their lives in the cheapest possible way. Aside from the House of An, everyone always said that life was the most precious thing, yet nobody actually cared about life—neither others' nor their own. In contrast, it was an outfit like the House of An, which killed for a living, that repeatedly warned every member of the family to act with utmost caution and never stir up conflict without absolute necessity. It was so bizarre. He looked down at the fierce expressions on the corpses, the grimaces frozen on the shattered heads, monstrous even in death. How ridiculous. "Hello? Sister Wen? Yes, all dead. Mm, forty-one of them." He answered his phone, reporting in detail. "Aside from them, eleven bystanders were caught in it—waitstaff and a few kids." A victim of the collateral carnage lay right by his feet, looking about the same age as him. The boy's youthful face was frozen in terror. Maybe he had brought some money to imitate the adults, coming to the bar to chase girls, or simply wanted a taste of the glamorous nightlife... only to get caught up in a storm that never should have touched him, trampled to death in the fray. How pitiful. In that split second, mocking laughter seemed to echo from far away. Across a vast distance, a cold gaze swept over him—and in that single instant, it made his hair stand on end! Without warning, the youth spun around. A shrill screech tore through the air as an iron sheet shot from his sleeve, hurtling forward faster than a bullet. It bypassed obstacle after obstacle, slicing through the gap of the doorway, severing an antenna in its path, skimming over rooftops, and cutting between the narrow gaps of high-rises. Finally, it struck the top of a dilapidated building a kilometer away. It wedged into a rusted iron door. Amid the echoing crash, dust puffed up on the rooftop, dancing in the scorching afternoon sunlight. Yet within the shadows, there was nothing. Across such a vast distance, Xiao An silently stared at those drifting specks of dust. After a long while, he pulled back his gaze. He turned and walked away. * At the same time, in the Maritime Commerce Center of Nanlu District, the sky-scraping office tower caught the sunlight, its sleek glass facade gleaming with crystalline brilliance. Floor 21, Shenghe Capital. In the afternoon, people bustled back and forth through the busy financial firm, carrying documents and statements. Their voices were soft and refined, exuding an air of elite professionalism. Everyone took pride in their investment yields and keen vision. Few cared where the funds cycling through those accounts and spreadsheets actually came from. At that moment, inside the reception room, a phone call ended. "Did you hear that? That's your handiwork." Wen Wen glared at the middle-aged man seated across the sofa from her. "Over the past few days, I've lost count of the major clashes—almost more than my fingers can tally. Just today, over forty innocent people have died after being dragged into your mess. And now, you pull something like this again. Is this how Shenghe does business?" Across the table, the suited middle-aged man wearing a manager's badge suddenly stiffened. "Supervisor Wen, that's crossing the line." Zhou Cheng shook his head emphatically. "I heard about what happened to the Baitiao Gang, but you can't pin everything on Shenghe, can you?" Wen Wen asked coldly, "Everyone knows Lei Yaoxing and Chen Xingzhou are out for each other's throats. The Baitiao Gang—those scumbags living off Chen Xingzhou's scraps—got wiped out to the last man. If it wasn't you, did Chen Xingzhou hire someone to butcher his own people?" "Who's to say?" Zhou Cheng offered a faint smile. "Maybe an internal feud broke out over dividing the spoils. After all, Chen Xingzhou is a clay idol crossing a river right now—he can barely save himself. It wouldn't be surprising if someone wanted to jump ship. Supervisor Wen, why not ask them yourself?" "What's the point of sending a pawn to talk to me? Get Lei Yaoxing out here to say it to my face." Wen Wen stared straight at that hypocritical smile. "Someone has to give me an explanation." "Supervisor Wen, a guest is a guest, and we at Shenghe have extended every hospitality. Please don't push your luck, or it might cause a misunderstanding." Zhou Cheng's expression turned frigid. "This isn't your Beishan District, Supervisor Wen. You might want to find somewhere else to throw your weight around. "Or is the Security Bureau finally planning to stick its nose into the Wild Gathering's business?" The moment the words left his mouth, a dead silence fell over the room. Wen Wen stared at him, expressionless. Blue veins bulged on the back of her hand. This was where their confidence came from, the exact reality Tong Shan had emphasized over the phone countless times. At this critical juncture where the snakes had lost their head, the underbelly of Yacheng was bound to undergo a bloody reshuffle, using who knew how many corpses of the defeated to pave the way for the victor. This was infighting among the White Stag; there was no room for Tianyuan to interfere. A nest of snakes and rats. Matters that could not see the light of day should end in the dark, where no one cared how many died. If the Security Bureau rashly stepped in, it would inevitably face retaliation from the Wild Gathering, which would never allow this bloody selection of a new leader to be disrupted by the bureau. "Please see yourself out, Supervisor Wen. Let's preserve some dignity between the Security Bureau and the Wild Gathering." Concealing the mockery and contempt in his eyes, Zhou Cheng stood up, smoothed down his bespoke jacket, and offered a leisurely farewell. "Xing-ge will not be coming out to meet you today." Wen Wen didn't speak. She didn't even move. She simply drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. *Endure it, endure it... Wen Wen, you can't throw away the director's painstaking care and kindness. Don't go looking for trouble, don't ruin the big picture. You're an adult now, stop flying into a rage and going for people's throats...* Yet even more people were already dead. More innocent victims—ordinary people dragged into this bloody contest, pregnant women and children crushed beneath trucks barreling toward rivals. Those unclosed eyes staring out from pools of blood... *Fuck that, I can't take this shit for another goddamn second!* As the saying went, a leopard couldn't change its spots, and stubborn heads from the Desolate Ruins were even worse—stubborn, deaf to reason, refusing to listen... She had paid the price for her own pigheaded nature more than once. She had regretted it more than once. She had wanted to change, more than once. But had she changed? Had she changed even once? Forget it, Wen, you're fucking hopeless in this life! "Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave." Wen Wen gave a self-deprecating smirk and sighed softly. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a crumpled envelope and placed it on the table. Zhou Cheng froze where he stood. "Here's a resignation letter. In five minutes, if I don't see Lei Yaoxing, I'm walking out of here, dropping this on the director's desk, and heading down to HR to process my exit. "By five o'clock this afternoon at the latest, I won't have a single thing to do with the Security Bureau." She tilted her head, lit a White Star, drew a deep drag, and exhaled the smoke slowly, narrowing her eyes with satisfaction. "If I don't waste too much time beating the shit out of my former colleagues, I'll go grab a meal with my friends first. We'll have a few good drinks and celebrate my newfound freedom. "And then—" Wen Wen looked up, meeting his eyes, and told him word by word, "I'll come back, pop Lei Yaoxing's dog head right outside his father's hospital room, and send his cheap godfather to keep him company. "Before that, I'll burn you pieces of trash to ash one by one—including you, and that cousin of yours who's still out on probation! "If you don't want the Security Bureau handling this, then I'll handle it myself. The Security Bureau might let scum like you walk the earth, but I won't. "Now, before I settle this problem using your methods, let me ask you one last question." In that instant, from the tall woman's smile, the exalted aura of Minerva manifested—solemn and awe-inspiring, as if looking down upon the mortal world to pass judgment. A terrifying pressure surpassing stone and iron rippled outward, strand by strand, like dust falling from the high heavens, threatening to bury Zhou Cheng's rapidly blanching face deep beneath the earth. And so, Wen Wen asked coldly: "—Do you want to gamble Lei Yaoxing's life against me?"