"In your previous interview, you emphasized that your father was stabbed thirteen times to death by an enforcer desperate to escape... Perhaps that enforcer was carrying out an important mission, and your father, too terrified of death, momentarily lost his senses and tried to seize the enforcer's weapon—leading to justifiable self-defense—"
"F*ck your mother!!"
Zhao Yi roared, his fist whistling toward Zhuo Shuqing's face—only for the latter to effortlessly dodge.
"What kind of goddamn journalist are you?! You're completely twisting the truth!! I see it now—you weren't here to interview us! You came to alter our testimony!" Zhao Yi glared at him with murderous intensity, as if wishing to tear him apart limb by limb.
Zhuo Shuqing finished writing the last word, closed his notebook, and spoke unhurriedly, "Mr. Zhao Yi, Aurora City has already shown you refugees mercy and kindness by offering you shelter... Why must you bite the hand that feeds you and play the ungrateful wretch?"
"Mercy and kindness??" Zhao Yi was so furious his lungs felt ready to explode. He grabbed a stick from the corner of the table and swung it at Zhuo Shuqing. The latter retreated several steps to the doorway, then stood motionless, allowing the stick to strike him.
Bang!
A flash of magnesium light erupted as a camera shutter clicked. Zhuo Shuqing let out a dramatic cry and collapsed to the ground.
Zhao Yi froze. He looked up and saw an assistant already waiting outside, camera in hand, having perfectly captured the scene. At the same time, the other survivors from District Three, who lived in the same tower, rushed downstairs at the commotion.
Zhao Yi, eyes blazing, recounted how Zhuo Shuqing had distorted the truth. The crowd instantly erupted in anger. Perhaps it was the shared experience of surviving death, or their mutual reliance in this unfamiliar land, but they had long since become a tightly-knit group. Now, they glared furiously at Zhuo Shuqing.
"Not pitiful refugees at all—just a pack of vicious rioters." Zhuo Shuqing slowly climbed to his feet, standing beside his assistant as he smiled at them. "But regardless, thank you all for your cooperation... This time, we have more than enough material."
The image of Zhao Yi striking him had been captured by the camera. With the right inflammatory text, it could completely shift public opinion. This was Zhuo Shuqing's true goal.
"No... we can't let him leave like this!" Xu Chongguo, a seasoned man, immediately grasped Zhuo Shuqing's plan. "Delete the photos in his camera—now!"
Zhao Yi was the first to charge out of the crowd, lunging straight for Zhuo Shuqing's assistant. The two took a step back, and from the surrounding dilapidated alleyways, figures emerged one after another.
These men wore crumpled clothes, gripping clubs and sticks—local thugs of unknown origin, their expressions uniformly sinister and ruthless. They formed a protective barrier around Zhuo Shuqing, coldly eyeing Zhao Yi and the others.
At this sight, Xu Chongguo's heart sank like a stone... They had come prepared.
"Zhuo Shuqing, what do you think you're doing?"
Just as the standoff intensified, a voice suddenly rang out from the side.
Hearing it, Zhuo Shuqing's face darkened. He turned toward the alley's other end, where Wen Shilin, also accompanied by an assistant, stood frowning at the scene.
"If it isn't our esteemed journalist Wen." Zhuo Shuqing sneered. "What? The uproar from your article yesterday wasn't enough? Here to meddle again?"
Wen Shilin's gaze swept over the District Three survivors surrounded by thugs, a flash of anger in his eyes. He stretched out a hand toward Zhuo Shuqing.
"Hand over the camera."
"On what grounds?"
"Using such despicable methods to whitewash those people—aren't you afraid of karma?"
"Karma?" Zhuo Shuqing chuckled. "Don’t worry—if karma really existed, some people would die much sooner than me..."
Seeing Zhuo Shuqing’s obstinacy, Wen Shilin’s temper flared. He coldly scanned the thugs shielding Zhuo Shuqing, then calmly began rolling up his sleeves.
"I didn’t want to resort to violence... But since you won’t hand it over willingly—don’t blame me." Wen Shilin said coolly. "A'Cheng, prepare to move."
His assistant, hearing this, also rolled up his sleeves. The two stood in the center of the deserted alley, a cold wind rustling their clothes—their auras sharp and lethal.
This display genuinely intimidated the thugs. They subconsciously retreated half a step, tightening their grips on their clubs, their eyes filled with wariness... Even Zhuo Shuqing, hiding behind them, paled as if facing a formidable enemy.
He took several steps back—only to notice a young man in a brown overcoat and half-rimmed glasses leaning against the wall nearby, watching the scene with narrowed eyes.
Zhuo Shuqing had no idea when this bystander had arrived, nor did he have time to care. Because Wen Shilin and his assistant were already charging toward him, fists clenched!
Their momentum was overwhelming—especially Wen Shilin. Though he appeared scholarly and frail, his eyes burned with indomitable fighting spirit.
"Boss, this one’s tough! Remember to pay us extra!"
The lead thug gritted his teeth at Zhuo Shuqing as Wen Shilin’s wind-splitting charge closed in. Steeling himself, he swung his iron club with full force at Wen Shilin’s head!
Bang!
Wen Shilin collapsed on impact.
Thug: "...???"
The thug was utterly baffled. He hadn’t even registered what happened—just that he’d swung haphazardly, Wen Shilin had tried to dodge but was too slow, and then... direct headshot, instant KO.
All that buildup... for a combat power rating of less than five?!
Meanwhile, the assistant A'Cheng managed a few decent moves, trading blows with two thugs—before a sneak attack to the back of his skull sent him crumpling beside Wen Shilin.
At the alley’s far end, the young man in the brown overcoat facepalmed, as if unable to bear the secondhand embarrassment.
Chen Ling had been here all along.
He’d originally come to find a chaotic area to test [Heart Python], and decided to check on the District Three survivors along the way... only to witness Zhao Yi chasing Zhuo Shuqing out and getting framed on camera.
At first, Chen Ling hesitated over whether to intervene—then Wen Shilin appeared. He’d assumed the famed journalist could handle it himself, even feeling a flicker of anticipation for the man’s combat skills... only to watch him get one-shot like a chicken.
With skills like that, how did he make his entrance so dramatic?! And where the hell was his [Fist of Justice]??
As Chen Ling internally facepalmed, Zhuo Shuqing burst into laughter.
"Wen Shilin, are you here to be a joke??"