Era of Magic and Martial Arts-Chapter 370 - 354: The Appointed Time of Death

"That means—"

Feng Mu’s voice suddenly became as light as a wisp of smoke,

"When you climb upwards with your feet off the ground..."

He slowly tilted his head back, the split on his forehead resembling a pomegranate struck by an axe, blood beads rolled down along his eyelashes, blooming into crimson flowers over his chilling teeth.

That face remained frighteningly calm, like it wore a blood-soaked mask, all emotions drained away, leaving behind a terrifying... emptiness!

"Once you fall—"

His tongue caught a dripping blood bead,

"You’ll shatter to pieces."

Feng Mu’s words slithered like a snake’s tongue through the cold air of the interrogation room, and before his last word finished, an agonizing scream exploded in the room.

Chen Yang staggered back, his right hand crossed his chest trembling violently, the bulging veins on his wrist squirmed like worms, and his knuckles twisted into a bizarre angle under the pressure of the cuffs, emitting a teeth-gritting sound of cracking bones.

Blood seeped from the misshapen cuff gaps, tracing a red arc under the harsh incandescent light.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound of blood beads hitting the ground.

Chen Yang’s facial muscles twitched uncontrollably, his molars grinding against each other noisily.

His gaze, like a poisoned arrow, longed to nail Feng Mu to the interrogation chair, yet Feng Mu only lazily licked his blood-stained lips, revealing a chilling smile:

"So, when you’re climbing, you’d rather die than let go, because the moment you let go—"

Chen Yang shakily unlocked the handcuffs, with rotting flesh clinging to the bracelet, exposing the sunken knuckles below. The blood-soaked skin around them appeared a corpse-like purple under the harsh light, exceedingly creepy.

"Is when death comes." Feng Mu’s voice seemed to emerge from the depths of hell.

Chen Yang’s heart skipped a beat, he stared fixedly at his twisted right hand, a terrible thought exploded in his mind:

"Is this hand... ruined?!"

The deformed handcuffs clattered to the floor, sending a shiver down one’s spine.

Chen Yang’s sanity completely collapsed at that moment.

With his still-functioning left hand, he shakily reached behind his waist, his knuckles turned white from excessive exertion.

The buckle of the gun holster made a faint "click" sound, exceptionally clear in the dead silence of the interrogation room.

In the adjacent observation room, Dong Ping’s pupils suddenly contracted:

"Captain Feng, Chen Yang has gone mad!"

Feng Ju’s eyes were locked onto the one-way mirror.

The blood-soaked visage of that wretch was glaringly striking under the harsh white light, an uncontrollable twisted pleasure surged within his heart.

But in the next second, his pupils sharply contracted—Chen Yang’s hand had already gripped the gun handle.

His instinctive step forward stopped abruptly, the wrinkles at his temple grew deeper, like chiseled grooves carving out dark shadows.

"If..." Feng Ju’s Adam’s apple bobbed, "If the wretch dies under Chen Yang’s gun..."

Once that thought took root, it grew wild like weeds:

"Li Shang would have no grounds to leverage this wretch against me. Instead, I could exploit this to great advantage..."

In an instant, countless calculations roiled in Feng Ju’s mind, culminating in a cold realization.

"I have raised this wretch for nearly twenty years, expending endless energy and effort..." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Feng Ju’s temple twitched slightly,

"Now, it’s time for him to show his filial piety to me."

A tear rolled down the deep lines of his face, reflecting a poignant brilliance under the cold white light.

The tear traced against Feng Ju’s tense cheek, suspending under his chin, as if awaiting a destined moment.

"Stay still." Feng Ju’s voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scratching, "Watch for a bit."

By now, Dong Ping had rushed to the door, his right hand gripping the door handle firmly.

He whipped around at the words, staring aghast at Feng Ju’s back, cold sweat rolling down his temples, soaking into the collar of his uniform leaving darkened traces.

Inside the interrogation room, Chen Yang’s gun was already half-drawn, the metal surface gleaming coldly under the light.

"Are you threatening me?"

Chen Yang’s voice squeezed out through clenched teeth,

"Do you even realize the situation? Since you’re so eager to die..."

His trembling left hand lifted the gun, the dark muzzle aimed directly at Feng Mu’s forehead. Sweat trickled down his temples, splattering into smaller droplets against the gun barrel.

Yet Feng Mu remained seated on the interrogation chair, the corners of his blood-stained lips holding a barely-there smile, as if enjoying a meticulously orchestrated drama.

Only in the depths of his eyes, two blood-colored Hook Jades faintly appeared, merging with his blood-soaked retina, emitting an eerie red glow:

"You’ve misunderstood, I’m not threatening you."

His gaze fell on Chen Yang’s trembling gun muzzle, the blood-colored Hook Jades slowly rotating:

"I’m merely stating a physical fact—you hit me, and you already know the result..."

Chen Yang’s pupils rapidly contracted, instinctively glancing at his twisted and malformed right hand.

"Then..."

Feng Mu’s voice remained gentle, unhurried as though persuading a friend to return to the right path:

"If you fire again, if the bullet doesn’t hit me, who do you think it will strike?"

The air solidified into substance, pressing down to the point of suffocation.

The interrogation room’s temperature seemingly plummeted, as Chen Yang’s left hand began trembling uncontrollably, his attempts to press the trigger repeatedly meeting no success.

Bam—

The interrogation room door was violently pushed open.

A silhouette swiftly advanced, deftly disarming the gun from Chen Yang’s hand.

Chen Yang frantically turned, meeting the sharp gaze of the newcomer—Chang Erbing.

His sight shifted back, pupils rapidly contracting—Li Shang was standing at the door, slowly walking in with a face so dark it seemed water could drip from it.

Li Shang’s gaze swept over the interrogation room like a blade, and upon seeing the gruesome gash on Feng Mu’s forehead, his expression grew even more grim.

"Chen Yang, who taught you to use forced interrogation in the Patrol Office?"

His voice was cold as ice chips,

"Holding a gun no less, were you planning to commit murder in the Patrol Office?"

Li Shang’s gaze fell on the inactive surveillance cameras, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.

He backhandedly delivered a slap, sending Chen Yang’s head to one side, his left cheek swelling rapidly.

Dizzy with pain, he stumbled back two steps, crashing into the interrogation table, sending the documents scattered over it fluttering to the ground with a flurry.

"Captain, Captain Li..." Chen Yang stuttered, clutching his face.

Li Shang no longer looked at him, turning towards Feng Mu, his shoes treading over the blood on the floor, leaving a series of dark red footprints.

"You must be Feng Mu, I’m Li Shang."

Suddenly Li Shang’s voice turned gentle, as if he had become a different person, saying:

"I apologize, there are some overzealous insects in the Patrol Office that go mad wanting to make achievements in solving cases, rest assured, I will quickly ascertain the truth and clear your name."

He took out a handkerchief, about to wipe the blood from Feng Mu’s forehead, but halted midway, giving a meaningful glance towards the one-way mirror.

Behind the glass wall, Feng Ju’s face froze in shock.

He glared with wide eyes, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

Feng Ju’s Adam’s apple moved up and down, but no sound emerged, his fingers unconsciously digging into his palm.

The tear suspended from his chin finally fell, splattering onto the cold floor...