Acting

Lin Mo didn't respond.

He turned and swept his gaze across the surveillance monitors on the wall—dozens of screens showing every corner of the estate in perfect clarity.

He knew the Superpower Youth Corps was definitely watching this place too.

Since there was an audience, might as well put on a show.

With his back to Shim Jae-hyeok, he asked in a voice neither too loud nor too soft.

"How much profit does Tianle Group pull in a year? Just the food and hotel divisions alone add up to an astronomical figure. With money like that, why would you still get into organ trafficking? Why would you still kill that many people?"

Shim Jae-hyeok blinked.

"So that's why you came after me?"

He laughed—a genuine laugh, like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Funny thing is, that decision wasn't mine."

Shim Jae-hyeok spread his hands, his tone far too relaxed. "But hey, you didn't kill the wrong man. The old man dying at your hands? He had it coming."

Wow.

His own father dies, and "had it coming" is all he gets. He brushed the blame off his shoulders like it was nothing.

Shim Jae-hyeok's survival instinct—give him ninety-nine out of a hundred, and dock one point for sheer shamelessness.

Lin Mo wasn't fooled.

"Your father made that call. Did you know?"

Shim Jae-hyeok stayed silent.

"After you took over—did you stop it?"

Still silent.

Lin Mo nodded. "Didn't stop it. Money, once it hits a certain number, is just numbers jumping on a screen. But you kept chasing it anyway—dirty money soaked in blood. How much is a human life worth to you? A hundred thousand? A million?"

"You don't get it."

Shim Jae-hyeok finally spoke, his expression shifting—the playful mask gone. "Some things, I can't just stop on a whim. The people tangled up in this pipeline go deeper than you can imagine. If I stop, I'm the one who dies."

"So you choose to let others die instead."

"Everyone has their own way of surviving."

Lin Mo let out a short laugh. He clenched his fist.

The change started at the back of Shim Jae-hyeok's hand.

One by one, the pores on his skin began to seep blood—dense, like something inside was forcing the blood outward.

Shim Jae-hyeok looked down at his own hand, but the color was draining from his face instead—because all that blood was pouring out through his pores.

The blood left his body, coalescing in midair, stretching, compressing, until it took shape.

A crimson blade, forged from his own blood.

"Wait—"

"Wait my ass!"

The blade struck.

It sank into Shim Jae-hyeok's shoulder blade, pinning him to the chair.

Then a second blade, a third—each one formed from his own blood, pulled straight from his body, one after another stabbing into him.

What kind of craziness is this?

Killing you with your own blood.

Shim Jae-hyeok clutched at the largest wound on his chest, blood pouring between his fingers.

That well-kept face finally cracked—lips gone pale, teeth chattering.

The calm, polished demeanor from moments ago? Shattered.

When death really closes in, nobody can keep up the act.

"P-please... spare me..."

Shim Jae-hyeok's voice had gone crooked, blood frothing at the corner of his mouth. "Don't kill me. I'll tell you the truth—all of it. Where the organs were going... the people inside the Superpower Youth Corps... and—"

His words stopped there.

Shim Jae-hyeok's eyes flew wide, pupils dilating in an instant. His neck snapped to the right, like someone had cut a critical wire inside him.

Dead.

Clean, quick, no warning at all.

Lin Mo unclenched his fist, a slight frown crossing his brow.

He didn't do that.

Shim Jae-hyeok died in his hands, but the one who killed him was someone else.

The moment Shim Jae-hyeok was about to spill the key information, someone had remotely triggered something rooted inside his body—killed him.

The method was precise. It severed his brainstem directly.

Interesting.

Lin Mo could bring Shim Jae-hyeok back to life if he wanted to—just a flick of his fingers for him.

But he didn't.

No need.

He raised a hand, drew Shim Jae-hyeok's soul out from the body, and stashed it in his Human Emperor Banner.

Questioning him alive or questioning him dead—same result.

But the way Shim Jae-hyeok died was far more valuable.

Lin Mo glanced out the window.

On the distant hillside, layers of trees cast dense shadows—nothing visible.

But whoever made their move was certainly still watching.

Might even be someone from the Superpower Youth Corps.

He made a decision.

Raising his hand, he drained every drop of blood from Shim Jae-hyeok's body—inside and out—rolling it into a dark red sphere in his palm before dissolving it.

Shim Jae-hyeok's corpse slumped in the chair—withered, pale, like a squeezed-dry cat demon.

From every possible angle, this looked like Lin Mo's doing.

Let the hand behind the scenes think its move went unnoticed. Letting them drop their guard makes tracing the thread back even easier.

With that done, Lin Mo walked over to Shim Jae-hyeok's desk.

The computer was still on, displaying an encrypted file management system.

A normal person would need at least three days to crack that encryption. But Lin Mo's spiritual sense slipped straight into the hardware layer, bypassing every software defense.

There was a lot of material.

Tianle Group's asset distribution map in Tokyo, the money trails through underground industry pipelines, and a few secret agreements written in Japanese.

Lin Mo skimmed through it all, copied everything, then wiped the system clean.

This material, handed to the Eastern Leaves, could accomplish something big.

If it fell into the hands of the Superpower Youth Corps instead, who knows who'd get intercepted first.

Cleaning done.

Lin Mo walked out the front gate of the estate.

The night wind rushed in, carrying the scent of the flower garden behind the mansion—sickly sweet, clashing absurdly with the smell of blood inside.

He spotted the black sedan parked by the roadside at a glance.

Song Junhe leaned against the car door, hands in his pockets. The Sunglasses Man sat in the backseat. Both of them looked relaxed, like they were waiting for a friend to grab late-night food.

But Lin Mo just gave them one look and turned to walk away.

"Hey, look at that—he doesn't even give you the time of day."

The Sunglasses Man let out a cold laugh.

"Not the right moment. After a man takes his revenge, there's no relief in his heart—just a hollow feeling, like cotton stuffed in his chest. Once he calms down, I'll find him again."

"Tsk, you're always so sure of yourself."

The Sunglasses Man took off his glasses, a pair of golden pupils aimed at the villa in the distance.

Then he put the glasses back on.

"I'm heading out first. The cleanup crew will be here any minute—catch a ride back with them."

With that, he stepped on the gas and drove off.

Five minutes later, four black vans rolled into the estate from different directions.

The Superpower Youth Corps swarmed in and started handling the scene.

They would find Shim Jae-hyeok's blood-drained corpse. They would find the wiped-clean computer. They would find the surveillance footage of Lin Mo walking away calm and unhurried.

But they wouldn't find Shim Jae-hyeok's soul—it was already gone.

Even less would they find that his true cause of death was nothing like what it looked like on the surface.