Nothing unexpected happened to Ji Chenai on his way home. During the trip, he had Xiao Qi keep an eye on the surveillance footage. They saw Wang Mingwu informing the group of men he had called over, and then watching them all leave one by one—Wang Mingwu himself also exited the park shortly after.

No one noticed anything unusual about Wang Mingwu. After being brainwashed by Ji Chenai’s ability, he acted just like a perfectly normal person—if anything, he seemed even more rational and organized than before.

Seeing Wang Mingwu leave completely put Ji Chenai’s mind at ease.

Zhou Yaoyun’s flight was scheduled for the afternoon, but he still seemed a bit worried about Ji Chenai. “Brother, if there’s anything you need help with, you have to let me know, okay?”

Ji Chenai agreed without hesitation. He was deeply moved that Zhou Yaoyun hadn’t asked him exactly what he had been doing. After all, anyone else would have insisted on getting answers.

Before leaving, Zhou Yaoyun left Ji Chenai with the lightweight bulletproof vest. He had noticed that Ji Chenai was not quite like a normal person, but since Ji Chenai clearly didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t press the issue.

They had another hearty lunch that afternoon. Wang Zhixiu and Zhou Yumian even had a few drinks to see Zhou Yaoyun off. They had always treated Zhou Yaoyun like their own son. Now, watching him return to his biological parents brought them comfort—but also a tinge of sadness.

Zhou Yaoyun accepted the farewell drinks from his adoptive parents and said he’d likely be back in the country before long.

Wang Zhixiu’s eyes turned slightly red. She said, “Xiao Qin can walk again, and life at home is finally getting better. If you ever feel wronged over there… then just…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but Zhou Yaoyun understood what she meant.

In truth, Zhou Yaoyun had an older brother, but he had recently died in an accident. If not for that tragedy, his biological parents might not have been so desperate to bring him back into their lives.

Ji Chenai looked at Zhou Yaoyun, wanting to smile, but he couldn’t quite manage it. In the end, he simply raised his glass and downed it in one go.

That afternoon, the whole family accompanied Zhou Yaoyun to the airport. He still had his bag slung over his back—the one carrying a gun. Ji Chenai had just opened his mouth to ask if that would even get him through airport security, when Zhou Yaoyun finished saying goodbye and walked off with a few men Ji Chenai had assumed were just random bystanders.

Watching him go, Ji Chenai leaned toward Xiao Qi and asked quietly, “When did those people show up?”

Xiao Qi thought for a moment and replied, “They’ve been here for a while. Two of them were already around before you guys even arrived.”

Ji Chenai admitted to himself that he hadn’t noticed those people at all. But it didn’t really matter anymore—Zhou Yaoyun had left, and he still had things he needed to do.

At around 7 p.m., Ji Chenai received a file from Wang Mingwu in his email. Moments later, through his computer screen, he witnessed Wang Mingwu take his own life.

Wang Mingwu’s expression at the moment of death was incredibly peaceful—as if he wasn’t dying, but fulfilling some kind of sacred duty. He picked up a gun, aimed it at his head, and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered everywhere. On his face was a smile—one that might’ve been calm under normal circumstances, but now looked deeply unsettling.

Ji Chenai watched it all happen live. Only after confirming that Wang Mingwu was beyond saving did he instruct Xiao Qi to cut the feed. Then, he downloaded all the files Wang Mingwu had sent, and deleted the email account entirely.

The documents confirmed everything Ji Chenai had suspected—Xu Yunchong was deeply involved in human trafficking. While he didn’t personally handle the operations, he coordinated things at the top, smoothing the way for the trafficking networks and even bribing a number of police officers.

As a behind-the-scenes boss, Xu Yunchong’s actions earned him immense profits. Just this month alone, he had received over three million yuan in “tribute” from Wang Mingwu—and that didn’t even include what he got from others.

The “premium goods” Wang Mingwu had mentioned also appeared in the files. Ji Chenai clicked into a folder and was met with dozens of photographs.

Most of the images showed teenagers—boys and girls—along with one or two voluptuous young women. In every photo, they were completely naked, their faces contorted with terror as they stared into the camera. Even through the static images, their paralyzing fear was palpable.

Among the files was an address for a warehouse in the western outskirts of the city, a full three hours from downtown. Unless something had gone wrong, this was likely where they were being held.

If Wang Mingwu’s activities were exposed, the “merchandise” would almost certainly be moved. Ji Chenai studied the photos for a long moment before asking Xiao Qi, “Are there any networked surveillance cameras near this address?”

After a quick search, Xiao Qi replied that the nearest accessible camera was over a kilometer away.

Ji Chenai instructed Xiao Qi to pull up the feed and monitor it continuously. “Alert me immediately if any vehicles enter or leave the area,” he said.

Xiao Qi acknowledged the orders without hesitation.

Ji Chenai’s “Saint’s Radiance” ability—his saintly, salvation-like power—came with a cooldown period. And given his current physical condition, charging into the warehouse to rescue those people would be a serious risk. There was a massive source of energy right in front of him, but the problem was how to get to it without losing his own life in the process.

While Ji Chenai was stuck in this dilemma, word of Wang Mingwu’s death reached Xu Yunchong.

Xu Yunchong had been swimming laps in an indoor pool when he got the call. The moment he heard the report from his subordinate, his expression darkened instantly.

“He’s dead?” Xu Yunchong asked coldly. “When did it happen?”

On the other end, the subordinate gave an estimated timeframe. Since Wang Mingwu had committed suicide with a gun, they hadn’t dared to call the police and had come to report it to Xu Yunchong first.

Upon hearing how Wang Mingwu had died, Xu Yunchong’s face grew even more grim. “Check his computer,” he ordered. “See if there’s anything on it—anything at all.”

His men immediately agreed and began moving to carry out his instructions.

Xu Yunchong added, “I want to know everywhere he’s been recently, and everyone he’s spoken to.”

He knew Wang Mingwu well enough to understand one thing—this man wouldn’t take his own life easily. The more greedy a person was, the more they feared death. Someone like Wang Mingwu would do anything to stay alive.

Although the report claimed that no one had entered Wang Mingwu’s apartment—and there were no signs of a struggle on his body—Xu Yunchong simply couldn’t believe it was suicide.

News soon reached him that Wang Mingwu had visited a park shortly before his death. That detail only strengthened Xu Yunchong’s suspicion. But that led to a troubling question: if it wasn’t suicide, then who had the ability to kill Wang Mingwu inside his own home—quietly, without leaving a trace?

Even as a staunch materialist, Xu Yunchong felt a chill run down his spine.

He suddenly thought of the woman who’d died in the warehouse some time ago. According to the autopsy report, she had suffered a powerful blow to the chest that killed her instantly. Yet to this day, the police hadn’t been able to identify what kind of weapon could’ve delivered such an impossibly fast and lethal strike.

Grabbing a towel, Xu Yunchong dried his hair as he made a series of calls. First, he ordered someone to retrieve surveillance footage from the park Wang Mingwu had visited. Then, he contacted someone inside the police department to give them a heads-up.

Who was it? A person… or something else?

Xu Yunchong lit a cigarette. Smoke curled around him as he narrowed his eyes. Whether it was human or ghost, he was going to drag it out into the light.

The day after Wang Mingwu’s death, Xiao Qi notified Ji Chenai that a vehicle was heading toward the warehouse. Since the western suburbs were remote and rarely saw traffic, the sudden appearance of several conspicuous vans was immediately suspicious.

Ji Chenai watched as two or three vans drove into the warehouse compound—and then left a little over an hour later. He immediately had Xiao Qi pull up surveillance footage along the route to see where the vehicles were headed.

There were three vans in total. One drove into a well-known entertainment club. The other two headed toward private villas in the southern part of the city.

The villas were off the grid—no access to their internal surveillance feeds. But through the cameras around the entertainment club, Ji Chenai saw the “goods.”

Three boys and two girls. They were herded out of the van like livestock, wrists and ankles shackled, and pushed into the building.

Ji Chenai’s heart tightened. He knew exactly what it meant when people were brought into that kind of place—it meant the buyers had arrived, ready to “inspect the merchandise.”

He didn’t know who the buyers were, but if those kids were sold off, even if he managed to track them later, it might already be too late.

Frustrated, Ji Chenai suddenly had an idea.

“Xiao Qi,” he said, “can you find out who these kidnapped people are?”

“I can try,” Xiao Qi replied. “If there’s any information online, I might be able to dig it up.”

It reminded Ji Chenai of the time they’d found Yang Yuyi’s parents through Xiao Qi. If he could identify the families of these victims, maybe he’d have a new way in.

After half an hour of searching, Xiao Qi came back with some results. He’d found the identities of two boys and one girl inside the club. The boys were both from neighboring provinces, and the girl was a local.

Ji Chenai stared at the information for a moment—then made a bold decision.

He went online and posted a thread with a striking headline:
“Inside a Human Trafficking Ring—If You’ve Lost a Child, Don’t You Want to Know Where They Went?”

Without hesitation, he uploaded everything Xiao Qi had found—clean, direct, and damning.

A boy named Xiaoyu from XX County went missing this past May—yet here he was, showing up in a certain city’s entertainment club. Alongside him were several other girls who had also been reported missing.

The moment Ji Chenai’s post went live, it exploded online. At first, netizens assumed it was just another attention-grabbing thread with no real substance. But they were quickly shocked—this wasn’t just speculation. The post included photos, names, and detailed information.

In the post, Ji Chenai didn’t mention Xu Yunchong. For now, all he had were money transfer records between Wang Mingwu and Xu Yunchong. That was enough to prove they were connected, but not enough to directly implicate Xu Yunchong in the trafficking operation.

Xu Yunchong had always been extremely cautious when it came to human trafficking—he never got his hands dirty. So even with everything Ji Chenai knew, he still lacked definitive evidence.

Originally, Ji Chenai had considered going straight to Xu Yunchong and using his hypnosis ability. But the problem was—he didn’t have anything in hand that would make Xu Yunchong feel genuinely threatened. The transaction records only scared Wang Mingwu because he knew if anything went wrong, Xu Yunchong would discard him without hesitation and move on to someone else.

Ji Chenai knew that only by starting with Wang Mingwu could he be certain that Xu Yunchong would meet with him in person—instead of feigning casualness with a polite greeting on the street.

The post Ji Chenai published was meant to stir up public attention and slow down the transaction. After all, if the buyers were people who couldn’t risk exposure, they definitely wouldn’t dare go through with a deal under the spotlight. No matter how badly they wanted their “toys,” they’d at least wait for the heat to die down.

As expected, Ji Chenai’s post was quickly taken down by the platform. But not before it was saved and shared by plenty of people. The topic generated a fair amount of buzz—not massive, but enough to make a ripple.

Controlling online discourse was, in reality, painfully easy: delete the post, block search results, remove related trending keywords… and just like that, the whole matter could be buried at the source.

Xu Yunchong’s side moved swiftly to contain the situation. The post hadn’t been up long, so not many saw it firsthand—but word still spread. Yet what could people really do with secondhand information? Once it was scrubbed from the internet, and without anything solid to hold onto, the public’s attention naturally faded over time—until the incident was all but forgotten.

Ordinary internet users might forget—but for the parents who had lost their children, a post like that was impossible to ignore.

The day after Ji Chenai published it, a crowd of local parents who’d lost their kids gathered in front of the club. They held banners, their faces full of fury, demanding an explanation from the club’s management.

Ji Chenai hadn’t expected the parents to react so fiercely—but in a way, it worked out for the better. With the place under public scrutiny, any planned transactions were off the table, at least for now.

Thanks to this unexpected development, Ji Chenai had bought himself a bit more time.

The evidence Wang Mingwu had provided clearly proved his own involvement in the human trafficking ring. However, it wasn’t enough to convict Xu Yunchong. The documents only showed regular transfers of money from Wang Mingwu to Xu Yunchong—but nothing to indicate what the money was for.

Xu Yunchong was a businessman. He could easily come up with a legitimate-sounding excuse—perhaps Wang Mingwu had borrowed money from him, and these were just repayments. As for Wang Mingwu’s activities, he could simply claim he had no idea.

This was Xu Yunchong’s cleverness—he profited from the crimes without shouldering any of the risks. There was no evidence linking him to any direct transactions with Wang Mingwu, but in reality, he provided the channels and the passes.

The commotion surrounding the club didn’t seem to faze Xu Yunchong at all. Just that afternoon, he was seen on the news, impeccably dressed in a suit, smiling as he gave an interview. He announced that just a few days later, he would hold a press conference to launch a new product.

The reporters were enthusiastic, asking him many questions about the new product. Xu Yunchong, ever the picture of politeness, answered every one with a calm and composed demeanor.

Ji Chenai took a bite of his meal, his thoughts drifting. If he could take this man down, the energy value would be substantial.

After Wang Mingwu’s death, Ji Chenai had received nearly thirty thousand points of positive energy. It was a massive amount, a clear sign that Wang Mingwu deserved his fate. His death had altered the lives of thousands.

Just as Ji Chenai was considering how to lure Xu Yunchong into a meeting, an unexpected phone call came in—it was Xu Yunchong himself. On the other end of the line, his voice was smooth as ever: “Is this Zhou Yaoqin?”

=^_^=