Chapter 389

The councilors did not reply to Wang Xinfa, seemingly neither agreeing nor refuting.

They merely watched collectively in silence as Zhang Deming closed the window again, and the decibels of the noise outside instantly became indistinct.

10 minutes later, the conference room door was pushed open from inside.

Wang Xinfa took the lead and left; although Zhang Deming was elderly, his steps were vigorous and he followed closely behind, while the other councilors either lagged a few steps behind or took out their phones to compose and send text messages.

At the stairwell corner, Zhang Deming smiled broadly and invited Wang Xinfa:

"Councilor Wang, if you have no plans at noon, why not share a simple meal with me?"

Wang Xinfa felt his phone vibrating buzzingly in his trouser pocket, while his face displayed a perfectly measured smile:

"Councilor Zhang is too polite; it just so happens I also have matters I wish to discuss with you in detail."

Inside the conference room, the Chief Councilor sat quietly in the main seat, his gaze coldly sweeping across the empty round table.

Sunlight slanted through the bulletproof glass, stretching his shadow very long, like some kind of dormant monster.

He habitually rubbed the ring on his finger, the movement exceptionally slow; the black gem on the ring gleamed with cold light in the sun, as if hiding an eye peering at the mortal world within.

Suddenly, his usually unruffled face seemed to be torn by some invisible force, forcibly cracking open a smile.

That smile was bizarre in the extreme — only half his cheek moved, the corner of his mouth slowly curving upward, revealing a somewhat stiff arc, while the other half of his face remained expressionless, like a piece of plaster cast utterly immobile.

"Truly... too interesting." He murmured softly, subconsciously licking his moist lips.

………

The vehicle headed toward No. 8 Middle School, passing by the Executive Government entrance on the way.

On the street before the Executive Government, hundreds of family members of fallen prison guards had gathered together.

They held high black-and-white photos; the smiling faces in the photos were frozen in past time, forming a piercing contrast with the weeping and shouting before their eyes.

Paper money drifted in the air above the street; white fragments rotated in the wind like snow, covering the ground.

The air was permeated with the scent of incense candles; burning smoke twisted into faintly visible shadows under the "sunlight."

A white-haired old woman knelt on the ground, her knees covered in dust, clutching her son's portrait tightly in her arms.

Her fingers trembled slightly from excessive force, her eyes brimming with grief that could not be concealed.

"My son was only twenty-five! He had just married, and his wife is still pregnant..."

Her voice was hoarse, tears flowing down her wrinkles,

"The Prison Warden killed him; you must give me an explanation!"

A little girl was held in her mother's arms, clutching her father's police badge in her hand:

"Daddy promised to take me to catch plush toys..."

Her crying was sharp and piercing, "Give me back my daddy!"

There were also some young people holding banners reading "Severely Punish the Murderer, Return My Justice."

They shouted slogans, their voices deafening: "Prison Warden step down! Qian Huan is the executioner."

Feng Mu glanced sideways slightly, his gaze passing through the car window, landing on the crowd not far away mixed with weeping and angry curses.

He was silent for a moment, then slowly rolled up the car window, isolating the clamor of the outside world.

He was a soft-hearted person, most unable to bear this kind of scene.

Especially since the dead were all his colleagues, even though he had not yet had the chance to speak a single word with the vast majority of them in life.

Even so, he still held genuine affection for the vast majority of them — a complex and hidden emotion.

Because a portion of them had already, in a way that transcends mundane understanding, permanently merged with him, continuing into his lifespan, and permeating into his bones.

Stored Life Essence: 1177 days

【Yin Sha Nine Nether Calamity Resentment Iron (Edibility 17.1/100%, Reserves 1.3%.)】

Their relatives cannot see, but on Feng Mu's retina it is clearly visible.

In just a few days, the 【Calamity Iron】 that had long been indigestible in Feng Mu's body began rapid digestion, being swiftly broken down at an astonishing speed.

Day one digested 5.1%, day two digested 4.4%, day three digested 3.9%.

The speed decreases daily, but as of today it remains considerable, dozens of times the original digestion rate at least.

If this digestion rate can be maintained, will the day of unlocking inheritance of 【Calamity Iron】 be far off?

Feng Mu felt emotion in his heart, his feelings for his colleagues growing even deeper.

"They did not die because of me, but I am still very sorry, however..."

Feng Mu closed his eyes, making a promise to the bereaved families in the bottom of his heart,

"I will properly digest their lives, and as for those who harmed them, I guarantee they will also one day... reunite with your husbands, fathers, or sons inside my body."

Then, the question arises: who is the true killer? Is it those dead prisoners? Or the Prison Warden Qian Huan they denounce? Or the likes of Zhou Hu and Zhao Xingzhi? Or a bigger figure hidden deeper behind the scenes? Or perhaps it is actually...??

Who knows?

Regarding the murderer, perhaps everyone has their own answer in their heart!

At this moment, Feng Mu suddenly had an insight:

"My body no longer belongs to me alone; inside my body there are countless dead resentments, silently weaving the veins of fate within me!"

【Your thoughts are quietly sublimating.】

【【Your Sin Index has gained one point↑】

【Game Inheritance Degree has gained an increase↑】

A line of considerate prompts flashed across his retina; although the increase was not much, it was enough to show the system acknowledged his insight — every elevation of Feng Mu's thoughts walked the correct path.

The scenery outside the car window flew by; roadside trees and buildings vanished in a flash; there was still half an hour's journey to No. 8 Middle School.

Feng Mu, his heart surging with complex insights, suddenly decided to take this time to open a blind box — the lottery tickets he had saved up from previous rewards.

Before, there had never been a Gold unlock equipment slot; after he finished making friends with Li Shang that day, there was.

Don't ask where these Gold came from; ask and the answer is, he and Li Shang both have a mutual close friend.

The only pity was that, after quietly saving up these days, the lottery tickets had not secretly fermented and upgraded on their own; D-class Lottery Tickets were still D-class Lottery Tickets.

He was a bit lacking in ambition.

【Detection: D-class Lottery Ticket. Draw?】

【Draw!】

A virtual wheel appeared on his Retina, spinning at high speed, colorful Halos flickering and interlacing before his eyes as if countless Stars were dancing, dazzling him.

In his Nao Hai, the probability information of winning appeared like a phantom:

【D-class Lottery Ticket: probability of drawing E-grade Equipment is 20%, D-grade Equipment 50%, C-grade Equipment 20%, B-grade Equipment 9%, A-grade Equipment 0.9%, S-grade Equipment 0.1%.】

Feng Mu silently prayed in his Heart Bottom: "The moment Fate's Favor is revealed has arrived; give me an S-grade!!!"

The wheel's speed gradually slowed, the pointer sliding past one colorful option after another, Feng Mu's heart rising and falling with it, each pass feeling like it was plucking at his tense nerves.

Time seemed to be Pulled longer.

Seven seconds, fourteen Rotations, like a long Fate judgment; Feng Mu could almost hear his own heartbeat, like a drum, thumping.

Finally—

The pointer began to slow, speed dropping bit by bit, wobbling as it landed on

End of Chapter