41: Finale, with me as a sacrifice

The black SUV roared on the highway.

Salty sea air, mixed with the smell of rust and rotting fish, poured in through the gaps in the car window.

Li Hu floored the accelerator, and the roar of the engine sounded like a dying beast.

Su Qingxue sat in the passenger seat, her Type 92 pistol already loaded and the safety off.

Her gaze occasionally flickered through the rearview mirror toward the silent man in the back seat.

Chen Mo leaned against the window, saying nothing.

His crimson eyes, like two burning embers in the dark, were fixed intently on the approaching port outside the window—a port resembling a steel tomb.

He was no longer vomiting or trembling.

The panic that originated from the depths of his soul had been replaced by something colder and purer.

Killing intent... Jiangcheng Port, Seventh Cargo Terminal.

This was the city's edge, a forgotten corner.

Massive containers were stacked like colorful mountains in the night, casting huge, distorted shadows.

Screech—! The SUV executed a clean drift and stopped at the entrance of Warehouse No. 3.

It was a long-abandoned warehouse.

The massive iron door was covered in rust, like congealed blood.

The door was slightly ajar.

It resembled the mouth of a giant beast waiting for prey to walk into its trap.

"Team Leader Chen, I'll go first!" Li Hu threw open the car door, pointing his submachine gun toward the darkness.

"No need."

Chen Mo's voice was hoarse, yet brooked no argument.

He pushed open his door and walked straight toward the entrance.

"This is my game."

Su Qingxue and Li Hu exchanged a glance, immediately positioning themselves to his left and right, guarding him in a triangular formation.

Creak—Chen Mo pushed open the heavy iron door.

The warehouse was empty.

Only a single dim, yellow incandescent lamp hung from the high ceiling, casting a lonely halo of light on the floor.

Gao Fan was sitting right in the center of that halo.

He sat on a worn wooden chair, composed, like an audience member waiting for the show to start.

He held no weapon.

The black police pistol lay quietly on a wooden box beside his feet.

Behind him.

A holographic projection of Su Qingxue, composed of blue light, was invisibly bound to a pillar, her mouth sealed with virtual tape, her eyes filled with "fear."

"You came."

Gao Fan raised his head and looked at Chen Mo as he walked in.

A complex smile, mixing jealousy, madness, and relief, appeared on his face.

"A little faster than I expected."

Chen Mo remained silent.

He simply watched him quietly, watching the man he had considered a nemesis, who turned out to be nothing more than a wretch.

"What's wrong? Don't you recognize me?"

Gao Fan stood up, opening his arms like an actor taking a curtain call on stage.

"Or have you finally remembered who lay on that cold operating table in your place fifteen years ago?"

His voice was filled with bitterness and resentment.

"I was the chosen one! I was the 'Emperor's' most perfect seed!"

"And you!"

He suddenly pointed at Chen Mo's handsome face, his own twisted by jealousy.

"You are just a substitute! A coward who hid in a closet because he was afraid! Trash who doesn't deserve to live!"

"Why?! Why do you get all of this?! Why can you so easily reach a height that took me fifteen years and I still couldn't attain?!"

His roar echoed through the empty warehouse.

Like a dying beast letting out its final cry.

"Because you were afraid."

Chen Mo finally spoke.

His voice was like a cold knife, accurately plunging into Gao Fan's heart.

Gao Fan's roaring ceased abruptly.

"You don't hate me."

Chen Mo walked step by step toward the halo of light.

"You are only hating the person who, fifteen years ago at the Seventh Terminal, hid behind a container and watched the killer dispose of the body... yourself."

Boom! Gao Fan's body trembled violently!

The color instantly drained from his face!

"You... how could you..."

"I saw it."

Chen Mo stepped into the halo of light and met his gaze.

Those eyes, burning with cold fire, seemed to pierce through fifteen years of time and space.

"I saw your eyes."

"There was no fear in them, no sympathy."

"There was only a kind of... pathological excitement, exactly the same as my murderous father!"

"From that moment on, you were no longer a victim."

Chen Mo's voice was like a judge reading a verdict.

"You and he are cut from the same cloth."

"Shut up!!!"

Gao Fan finally broke!

All his pretense and pride were stripped away by Chen Mo in that instant!

He let out a roar that sounded inhuman.

He spun around violently and lunged toward the pistol on the wooden box by his feet!

"Bang!"

A gunshot rang out!

But it wasn't Gao Fan who fired!

It was Su Qingxue!

The bullet accurately struck the wooden box, sending the pistol flying away violently just a second before Gao Fan's hand could touch the grip.

Gao Fan's movement froze.

He slowly turned his head, looking at the woman holding the gun, her eyes cold.

"The game is over." Su Qingxue's voice was devoid of warmth.

"Over?"

Gao Fan suddenly laughed, a laugh that was manic and despairing.

"No..."

He abruptly pulled something out of his pocket!

The missing scorpion-shaped ring!

"This is... the real opening act!"

He violently pressed the ring against his temple!

From the tail of the ring.

A poison needle, fine as an ox hair, instantly sprang out!

"No!"

Su Qingxue cried out, preparing to shoot!

But it was too late!

A strange, relieved smile appeared on Gao Fan's face.

His body suddenly stiffened.

Then, he fell straight backward.

With a "thud."

He hit the cold concrete floor heavily.

He was dead.

He ended his pathetic and hateful life in the most decisive way possible.

And he took all clues regarding the "Emperor" with him.

Li Hu rushed over, checked for breath, and shook his head helplessly at Chen Mo and Su Qingxue.

The warehouse fell back into a deathly silence.

The dim, yellow incandescent lamp continued tirelessly illuminating this stage of sin.

Of the two main characters on the stage.

One was dead, and one was standing.

Chen Mo looked at Gao Fan's face, which still carried that strange smile, his eyes showing no pity whatsoever.

He knew the "Emperor" had won again.

He used a dead man to sever all clues.

Once again, he had perfectly retreated behind the scenes.

Just then.

The holographic projection of "Su Qingxue" suddenly flickered.

Her image vanished.

In its place appeared the strange emblem composed of the Ouroboros and a broken crown.

The "Emperor's" elegant yet cruel voice once again echoed throughout the warehouse.

"A wonderful performance, my Judge."

"You have once again proven your worth."

"Although the seed Gao Fan grew crooked, his death has at least brought a relatively perfect conclusion to our game."

"Now, the warm-up is over."

"The real game is about to begin."

Chen Mo did not speak.

He merely listened quietly, his eyes, burning with cold fire, reflecting endless darkness.

"Next level."

The "Emperor's" voice carried a hint of devilish laughter.

"Let's play a game... about 'Judgment'."

"Don't you fancy yourself the 'Judge'?"

"Then I shall grant you the true power of Judgment."

As soon as he finished speaking.

The emblem disappeared from the holographic projection.

In its place was a photograph.

A photograph that Chen Mo was extremely familiar with, yet one that made his pupils contract instantly!

It was the latest Red Notice issued by Interpol!

And the face of the man on the notice... was identical to his nemesis from his previous life, the crime emperor!

[Name: Unknown]

[Codename: Emperor]

[Charge: Crimes Against Humanity]

Below the photo was a line of large, flashing blood-red text.

[Target is about to arrive in Jiangcheng.]

[Good luck, my... old friend.]

The projection disappeared.

The entire warehouse once again fell into a deathly darkness and silence.

Only the dim, yellow incandescent lamp stubbornly continued to illuminate the cold corpse on the floor.

The game was over.

But the war had just begun.