There was a suppressed sob in the ward, which then turned into hysterical screams and cries as the door opened.

Mo Xin leaned against the doorway and gestured slightly towards the corridor. The special forces team waiting outside rushed into the C4 ward and took Reinis, who had already been restrained, away.

In less than half a minute, no one noticed the figure of Liang Qiuchi dressed as a special forces soldier.

When the room quieted down again, the evening fell and the afterglow of sunset completely disappeared.

But Mo Xin didn’t turn on the lights.

He crossed his arms and maintained his stance leaning against the door. The light from the corridor slanted in, allowing him to vaguely see the tall and straight silhouette of Liang Qiuchi.

To avoid being recognized, Liang Qiuchi had put on his ballistic helmet and face mask again.

The uniform wrapped his good figure tightly, and the full-face helmet added a touch of mystery and austerity to him.

Watching this, Mo Xin’s heart raced, and his mouth felt dry.

“Come here,” he said, noticing that his voice was quite hoarse.

Liang Qiuchi approached, but before he could say anything, Mo Xin pushed him somewhat unceremoniously.

His back hit the wall, and Mo Xin leaned into his embrace.

“Don’t take it off,” he pressed down Liang Qiuchi’s hand as he tried to lift it, listening to the slightly heavy breathing beneath the helmet. His own body was becoming increasingly restless and hot.

Mo Xin took off the inconvenient bulletproof vest from his body and casually threw it to the ground.

Under the helmet, Liang Qiuchi’s low, hoarse chuckle could be heard.

“You’re allowed to undress, but not me?”

“Yeah.” Mo Xin pressed one leg between Liang Qiuchi’s, dominantly pinning him against the wall.

Liang Qiuchi pressed Mo Xin’s lower back with one hand, warning him, “Don’t move recklessly.”

Mo Xin lifted his eyelids, and the ballistic visor of the helmet reflected his face clearly, but Liang Qiuchi’s eyes were obscured.

However, the closely pressed bodies honestly conveyed Liang Qiuchi’s current state of readiness.

Intentionally teasing a few times, Mo Xin felt the veins in the hand pressing on his lower back tense up, exerting more force.

“It’s dirty here, don’t provoke me,” Liang Qiuchi said.

Mo Xin didn’t want to be too intimate in the same hospital room where Reinis had stayed, so he stopped teasing.

He just blushed and said, “When we get home, you’ll wear this outfit again, and we’ll try the positions we tried before.”

“Then you better not cry,” Liang Qiuchi lightly patted his butt, his magnetic voice sensual yet dangerous.

Mo Xin lowered his head, burying his flushed cheeks in Liang Qiuchi’s neck, and whispered softly, “Even if I do, don’t go easy on me.”

Liang Qiuchi’s Adam’s apple rolled lightly, wishing he could fly home immediately.

The two of them hugged quietly at the door of the ward for a while. When the heat gradually subsided, they walked down the stairs together.

The police car at the entrance of the first floor was surrounded by chaos.

Vincent ran over and reported, “Reinis passed out as soon as he was taken into the police car. It doesn’t seem like he’s faking it.”

Mo Xin asked Liang Qiuchi to wait in the underground garage while he, accompanied by Vincent, went to check the situation.

Reinis lay on the ground with handcuffs, with blood stains from Liang Qiuchi’s kick at the corner of his mouth and foam from his fainting earlier.

Several medical staff knelt beside him, performing chest compressions. The special police officers responsible for escorting him faced outward, trying to push away the journalists who were trying to get closer.

“His heartbeat is back! We need to rush him to the emergency room!”

Reinis, pale-faced, was lifted onto a stretcher and swiftly taken back to the hospital. The scenes were broadcast live to the entire federation by major media outlets.

The last time he was hospitalized might have been fake, but this time it was real. His heart had stopped for more than half a minute.

He only had two sons. His youngest son, Roy, was shot in the head by Liang Qiuchi years ago, and now his eldest son had despaired and taken his own life in prison. It was no wonder Reinis couldn’t bear the blow and almost died on the spot.

“Aren’t you afraid he’ll really have a heart attack and not be saved?” Liang Qiuchi originally intended to postpone mentioning Will Reinis’ suicide until later. He didn’t want Old Reinis to die before the trial.

That would be too easy for him.

Mo Xin said indifferently, “This is just the beginning. If he can’t even handle this, he might as well die early.”

“… You,” Liang Qiuchi smiled helplessly, “I really don’t know what to do with you.”

But as Mo Xin had said, Will Reinis’ suicide was just the prologue.

The empire built by Reinis had just begun to collapse.

In the following days, the family businesses under Reinis and his close relatives were gradually shut down for investigation, and their stocks plummeted continuously. Decades of hard work were almost destroyed in an instant.

More victims began to come forward and speak out.

Over the years, Reinis’ crimes of manipulating public opinion, intentionally persecuting officials, monitoring the masses, deliberately leaking federal secrets, privately hiring mercenaries overseas to monopolize resources, smuggling arms, and other prohibited items have been exposed one by one.

Especially the profits he allegedly made from smuggling, even a rough estimate would be astronomical figures for ordinary citizens to comprehend.

One could only imagine how terrifying the real numbers after meticulous calculations would be.

On the day Reinis was discharged from the hospital, the camera flashes were so blinding that he couldn’t even open his eyes.

He lowered his head, and the shackles on his feet made it difficult for him to walk.

Having passed through the gates of death, his spirit seemed to have been completely drained, nowhere near the spirited demeanor he had when speaking on television programs earlier in the month.

“Hurry up.” The special police escorting him impatiently gave him a shove.

Reinis staggered for a moment, then looked around, “Where’s Mo Xin? Why isn’t he here?”

“Keep moving.” The special police didn’t answer and pushed him again.

As they approached the transport vehicle, a large crowd of demonstrators swarmed around, holding banners with “Death Penalty” written on them, angrily throwing eggs, rotten shoes, and other objects at Reinis.

They cursed him, calling him the shameless parasite of the federation.

But how many parasites like him were there in the federation?

To prevent similar incidents from happening again and to shake the central rule of the federation, the federation demanded internal investigations, quietly triggering a political storm.

Dozens of high-ranking officials successively stepped down, search warrants were issued, and the political, business, and military sectors were all affected to varying degrees.

A week after Reinis was formally arrested, Mo Xin announced his resignation as acting director of the Federal Security Bureau.

At the press conference for the new director’s inauguration, reporters all asked about Mo Xin’s resignation at this critical juncture.

“Why did General Mo resign? Does he also have corrupt behavior?”

“Is General Mo’s resignation related to his older brother’s inauguration as governor of Danga State?”

“Recently, the Danga State government has been acting frequently and still refuses to communicate with the federation. What does the Security Bureau have to say about this?”

“…”

The new director secretly wiped his sweat, thinking that Mo Xin was really bold. He just threw his resignation letter into the vice president’s office, patted his butt, and left, leaving him to clean up the mess.

“General Mo’s resignation is due to personal health reasons, unrelated to anything else,” the director of the Security Bureau replied cautiously and vaguely. “As for the relationship between Danga and the federation, both sides are actively communicating. Please don’t speculate excessively.”

He raised his hand to signal and interrupted the media’s further questions.

“In addition, I have to announce another piece of news. The federation hereby revokes all charges against Liang Qiuchi, and the previously issued Class A arrest warrant is immediately canceled. Mr. Liang Qiuchi’s status as a law-abiding citizen of the federation is restored, enjoying all the rights and obligations of a citizen.”

Once this was announced, Liang Qiuchi and the resigned Mo Xin immediately made headlines.

Not only did they appear on the front pages of political columns, but even entertainment columns placed their photos side by side.

They were accompanied by eye-catching and suggestive headlines.

“Shocking! Former archenemies unexpectedly intimate hand in hand, appearing in the red light district late at night.”

With this news, the credibility of the federal government took another hit, and even the newly appointed director of the Security Bureau was labeled as a “liar”.

The cold-blooded war machine going to the red light district to visit Liang Qiuchi, whom he had once arrested, for recuperation?

It’s fucking absurd.