Chapter 542: Live Broadcast Trial

The countdown is still ticking.

Two hours, fifty‑nine minutes, forty seconds.

Two hours, fifty‑nine minutes, thirty‑nine seconds.

In the Technology Department of the Investigation Bureau, rows of red lights lit up one after another, as if someone had clamped the veins of the entire underground command center.

The keyboard clacking was unnervingly dense.

On the screen, strings of blood‑red code branched off from the main page, burrowed into the rogue's internal network, into civilian forums, into short‑video platforms, into news clients, even the splash ad of a vegetable‑selling app was polluted into the same countdown.

"Can't be blocked!"

"Team Three, cut off the external network mirror!"

"Cut, but it's useless; it's self‑replicating in the local cache!"

"Don't you damn use a regular firewall; this thing isn't code logic at all, it's eating our interception rules!"

A young analyst cursed until his voice cracked, his fingers hammering the keys at breakneck speed, yet a line of Blood Characters popped up on the screen.

The trial cannot be deleted.

The next second, that line thoughtfully transformed into the Federation's common language, North American language, Dongdao language, and Bu Lie Dian language.

Even the translations were all provided.

Liang Wen stood at the back row, his face turning green.

"So considerate it's at this level, I can only say it really understands user experience."

Su Ming shot him a glance.

"Shut up, don't add Spiritual Pollution to the Technology Department."

The head of the Technology Department was drenched in sweat, his collar torn open, his eyes filled with red threads.

"Wei, this thing isn't an ordinary hacker link."

"When we try to trace it back, it actively creates false sources."

"One trace spawns seven decoys."

"Trace it seven times, and it becomes forty‑nine."

"There are now at least three thousand six hundred false nodes worldwide, each laced with Weird pollution, and the two analysts responsible for tracing have already shown mild cognitive drift."

Lord Wei sat at the head seat, his tea untouched.

"Personnel, stand down."

The head of the Technology Department gritted his teeth.

"But if we don't pursue any longer, in three hours there will be a global live broadcast."

Wei said only four words.

"People must live first."

The head of the Technology Department rolled his Adam's apple, turned, and roared, "Team Three, stand down! Switch to the automatic sandbox! Don't force it! You're not Jiang Yuan, don't even think about piloting a Gundam in flesh!"

Someone behind let out a wry laugh.

"Chief, the automatic sandbox is being eaten through as well."

Jiang Yuan stood before the screen, the Card Bag at his waist gently swaying.

A shadow crouched at his feet, as if provoked by the dark‑red page.

Qin Zhixia's mechanical prosthetic arm rested on the table edge, its metal joints gently folding.

"It's not just about killing."

"It wants everyone to see."

Su Ming stared at the countdown.

"More troublesome is that the audience it chose isn't us."

Jiang Yuan turned his head.

Su Ming pointed to the real‑time data on the civilian platform.

The comment section had already been flooded with blood‑red links.

Some were terrified.

Some cursed.

But more people were asking the same question.

Who to judge?

Lord Wei finished reading that rapidly scrolling text, his old eyes pressed down to the very bottom.

"Zhou Ping wants to strike the face of the Federation."

Five minutes before the countdown hits zero.

All screens went black simultaneously.

No one in the Technology Department tapped the keyboard any longer.

Even Liang Wen fell silent.

In the center of the black screen, a line of dark‑red small text slowly emerged.

The first trial.

Location: Jiang Hai City, back alley of the Silver Deer Bar.

The image lit up.

It wasn't a crude hidden‑camera shot.

It was a high‑definition camera.

Even the angle had been calibrated.

The back alley after the rain was wet and glossy, and the neon sign flickered in the puddles.

In the distance, the bar's low‑frequency drum beat throbbed, and men and women queued at the front entrance, none looking toward the back alley.

At the end of the alley, two young men leaned against the wall, smoking.

One wore a white suit, his wristwatch so expensive it could buy half a street.

The other, with gray hair, toyed with a metal badge of the Devious Association in his hand.

The man in the white suit was on the phone, sounding irritated.

"Dad, I already told you, that woman jumped herself; it has nothing to do with me."

"The footage was deleted, and the car was taken care of."

"Didn't the court side get settled?"

"Right, Lawyer Zhao said the worst they could do is an internal sanction—laughable. How could they deny the Devious Protection Ordinance?"

The gray‑haired youth laughed.

"Your dad is really cautious."

The man in the white suit hung up and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"The old man is old and timid."

"Just an ordinary girl; she cries a couple of times and wants to joke with my future?"

The gray‑haired youth patted the badge.

"Don't talk about ordinary people; what does a low‑level Devious even matter?"

"These days, whoever has high‑level Weird is the top dog."

The bullet‑comment area fell silent for three seconds.

Then it exploded.

"Whoa, isn't that Song Mingze of the Song family?"

"The other is Lu Qinan, right? The one from last month's nightclub murder?"

"My cousin works at that club; she says more than one died!"

"Didn't the authorities call it a rumor?"

"I just ask, does the face hurt?"

In the Technology Department, several analysts remained silent.

On the screen, a few silhouettes appeared at the alley entrance.

The Scar Man led the group.

The scar on his face ran from the brow bone down to his jaw, and he held a short blade wrapped in human skin and stitched.

Behind him followed a lanky youth and the female adapter who had reported the resale of Containment Objects.

The three dressed plainly.

No exaggerated styling.

But the puddle beneath their feet was slowly turning red.

Song Mingze frowned.

"Who?"

No one answered.

The Scar Man raised his hand and tossed a stack of File onto his feet.

The pages scattered.

Transfer records.

Surveillance deletion command.

Court witness withdrawal agreement.

Victim girl's medical record amendment log.

Each page's lower‑right corner bore the seal of the same law firm.

Song Mingze's complexion turned pale instantly.

"Where did you get these?"

Gray‑haired Lu Qinan reacted faster, raising his hand to press the back of his neck.

His skin split, and a faceless woman's visage floated out from behind him.

B Ji Fierce Ghost, Crying‑Face Bride.

The man in the white suit also stepped back half a pace, black markings surfacing on his chest, summoning a short impish shadow carrying an axe.

The two second‑generation elites had just been bragging about being top dogs, and now their tactics were slick.

The Scar Man gave a slight smile.

"Yo, there really is stock."

The gray‑haired youth barked, "Kneel!"

The Crying‑Face Bride looked up, black blood oozing from the corners of her eyes.

But a moment later, the dark‑red crystal on the Scar Man's wrist glowed.

The human‑skin short blade unfolded a dark‑red bone edge, blood patterns crawling through the air.

The Crying‑Face Bride's head dropped straight down.

The short impish shadow also knelt, its axe sinking into the puddle.

The Weird markings inside the two second‑generation elites were forced back into the depths of their skin.

Song Mingze stared wide‑eyed.

"Impossible."

Lu Qinan turned around and tried to run.

The tall, thin youth reached out and pressed.

The iron gate at the alley entrance shut by itself, and the latch melted into a dark red clot.

The Female Match walked to the wall and stuck up a photo.

In the photo, a girl in a school uniform stood on the edge of the rooftop, with someone laughing behind her.

The danmaku began to flood wildly.

"It's her! That jumping-to-death case from last year!"

"Wasn't it said to be depression-induced suicide?"

"Holy shit, these bastards really deserve to die."

"Don't be a saint, just watch till the end."

The scarred man grabbed Song Mingze's hair and dragged him in front of the camera.

"Name."

Song Mingze shook so hard his teeth chattered.

"Song, Song Mingze......"

"Charge."

"I'm innocent! I'm an A Ji Reserve Spellbreaker! My dad is the Deputy Chairman of the Defense Committee! If you touch me, no one can save you!"

The scarred man raised his hand.

The bone blade fell.

One of Song Mingze's fingers flew into the standing water.

A piercing scream cut through the back alley.

Many viewers' hands trembled in front of their screens.

But the danmaku scrolled even faster.

"Satisfying!"

"Continue!"

"Did he think about how others felt when he killed?"

"Don't censor it! Please, don't censor it!"

In the Technology Department, a female analyst turned her face away.

Another young man, however, stared at the screen, his throat moving, but said nothing.

Su Ming took in this scene.

This is the real trouble.

It's not the killing.

It's that after everyone watches, they actually find it hard to utter a word of complete opposition.

The scarred man wasn't in a hurry.

He pressed Song Mingze to the ground, and the blade moved slowly.

With each small piece of flesh cut away, the tall, thin youth recited a segment of evidence.

"Victim Chen Wan, nineteen years old."

"She was coerced and then fell to her death."

"The surveillance was deleted."

"The two guards on scene received 300,000."

"The presiding judge's account received three million overseas funds three days after the incident."

Lu Qinan knelt beside them, his trousers soaked through.

"I'm not the principal offender! The idea was his!"

The Female Match walked over, grabbed his hair, and forced him to look at the photo on the wall.

"What are you laughing at?"

Lu Qinan shook his head while crying.

"I drank too much, I really drank too much!"

From the Female Match's palm crawled a dark red resentment infant.

That resentment infant burrowed into Lu Qinan's chest, slowly pulling out the contract of the weeping bride.

Lu Qinan began to roll about, like a fish out of water.

The picture did not shy away.

Blood spread out.

On the wall, the scarred man wrote two large characters with his enemy's blood.

Judgment.

Beside the characters, the evidence files were riveted tightly to the wall.

The camera pushed forward.

Every transfer, every chat log, every signature was clear enough to send chills down one's spine.

Ten minutes later, the two spoiled heirs had no movement.

The scarred man stood before the blood characters, facing the camera.

"The first round is over."

Don't rush.

Wang said.

Tonight it's not just them.

The screen went black.

The next second, comment sections on platforms worldwide went completely out of control.

Awesome!

If the authorities won't judge, the Avengers will!

Stop washing it off, the evidence is slapped right on your face.

My mom was crippled by a Weird Controller back then, and the compensation still hasn't come down—who can help us prosecute?

Where are the Avengers? I want to join the Avengers!

Finally, someone in this world is getting things done.

Some people are also cursing.

This is vigilante justice! Are you crazy?

It was immediately buried under more comments.

Is the court useful?

The evidence has been out for how long, and yet they're still out drinking at the bar.

Don't tell people to be magnanimous when the knife hasn't fallen on your own home.

The official account tried to post a reassurance announcement.

Three seconds later, the comment section was flooded with blood-red links.

The trial continued.

In the Technology Department, the atmosphere was so oppressive it made people feel tight-chested.

Qin Zhixia watched the barrage, and her mechanical prosthetic arm made a soft sound.

This is what Zhou Ping wanted.

Jiang Yuan said softly: 'Turn hatred into faith.'

Su Ming added a line.

Turn the Federation into the defendant's bench.

Liang Wen scratched his head, unusually not joking.

This round, even if the entire PR department went to the rooftop, it would be useless.

Lord Wei stood up.

If we can't delete it, we'll investigate.

The Technology Department Head, sweating profusely, suddenly lunged toward a backup terminal.

Wait.

Just now, when the livestream ended, there was data backflow.

It's not the main line, it's an equipment calibration packet.

The other side is either too arrogant or too confident, and didn't clean up properly.

Su Ming walked over.

Can you locate it?

The Technology Department Head's fingers flew over the keyboard.

Give me twenty seconds.

On the screen, hundreds or thousands of fake nodes were crossed out with red lines.

North America.

Eastern Europe.

Southern Border.

Jianghai.

Another batch of nodes shattered.

The Technology Department Head's sweat dripped onto the keyboard, and he didn't wipe it away.

Don't run.

Don't run, baby.

Liang Wen felt his scalp go numb.

Tech nerds catching Weird stuff, and now they've snagged a love line too?

No one paid him any attention.

Ten seconds later, a red dot locked onto the center of the screen.

Zijin Mountain.

The Technology Department Head jerked his head up, his voice hoarse from shouting.

Found it!

The other party's hacker signal source is......

He paused half a beat, as if he himself couldn't believe it.

Magic City, Zijin Mountain Club!

A suspected temporary stronghold of the Avengers.

The Seven-Eyed King Zhou Ping is very likely inside!