How many accomplices are there, where is your base, who is the mastermind behind it, who is the umbrella protecting you, who has harbored you in Central Earth for so long? Come clean, tell us everything."

"N-no accomplices, it's just me alone!"

The confessor instinctively followed the instructions and began reciting: "It's all me..."

As he spoke, it started to feel like something was wrong.

The atmosphere changed once again.

"There are always more than three members in the inner array of Corpse Star, acting together with the assistant priest... You say you're from the inner array, yet you have no accomplices?"

Ji Jue paused and curiously asked, "What are you really hiding?"

"..."

The confessor, dazed and bewildered, his lips quivering, was about to speak when he heard Ji Jue's sigh, so gentle: "Or maybe, you're just the Evil Cult's discarded pawn used to draw our attention, with a bigger plot hiding behind the scenes?"

In the dead silence, the confessor couldn't speak.

He was drenched in sweat.

He didn't know how he should respond, and he was breathing heavily.

Only Ji Jue stood up with a coffee cup, walked to the corner, refilled it, sat back down slowly, and sipped the steaming cup.

"Think about it, think it over, speak when you've thought it through."

Ji Jue, without lifting his head, told him, "If you don't disclose your accomplices, how can you claim to have turned over a new leaf? You need to at least give a name."

The gentle words echoed inside and outside the interrogation room, transmitting through cameras and audio devices, reaching all observers.

Roll out the final offer.

The bonfire is already lit, yet there's no worthy sacrifice, do you really think this is a campfire party?

Either you bring out someone with enough weight to start the event, and everyone unites to turn this into an ironclad case, participants can gain achievements from the market, Security Bureau, and Military can gain awards and honor, turning misfortune into blessing, everyone wins!

Or you can play among yourselves!

In an instant, both openly and secretly, many who had just relaxed, tensed up again, their blood pressure soaring.

Behind the one-way mirror, Dugu Ming also struggled to control his expression.

Convulsing in waves.

He didn't expect Ji Jue's appetite to be so exaggerated.

After taking the money and land, at the critical moment, just one step away from success, still thinking about taking a bigger bite... And it has to be fresh, freshly ordered and freshly slaughtered!

He's pressuring Dugu Ming, and all allies of Huan Yu Heavy Industry, to step forward and point out the 'culprit' for him!

Sharing the risk and holding together in solidarity, isn't that what you said?

What's the matter? Brother Du, are you reneging on your word right after saying it? I'm already considering the bigger picture so well, why don't I see you endure for the public good?

In the silence, his phone began vibrating again and again, the screen lighting up repeatedly.

Messages were popping up like a waterfall, refreshing continuously.

It was impossible to catch up.

Pushes, questions, inquiries, indirect probing...

In less than half a minute, Dugu Ming's palm was nearly numb from holding the phone, feeling as though he was gripping not a phone, but a red-hot iron grenade ready to explode at any moment!

Until the last straw fell silently.

His backup came forward, whispered in his ear, and conveyed the latest news — just now, a small private flying airship had landed in Tower City, ready to take off at any moment.

If a decision isn't made soon, it will be too late!

"Tsk..."

Dugu Ming gritted his teeth and shattered the screen in his hand.

He made up his mind.

Outside the one-way mirror, inside the interrogation room, the trembling, petrified confessor suddenly convulsed violently, as if electrocuted, his eyes rolled back, face contorted.

But then, he quickly returned to normal.

Only his empty eyes slowly lifted, voice hoarse and wooden:

"I-I confess..."

"That's more like it."

Ji Jue smiled calmly, resting his chin on his hand, and asked again: "Now tell me, who instructed you to do this? Who is the umbrella supporting you?"

"It's... it's..."

That stiff expression twitched, squeezing out the words through clenched teeth, 'honestly confessing': "It's the president of Black River Trade, Mudahka!"

The moment those words came out, countless people breathed a sigh of relief, countless were filled with dread, and many more felt settled, as if pardoned.

Everyone understood that the empty gallows had finally met its destined occupant.

Now, with the Witch noosed, the bonfire festival could finally commence!

Outside of Tower City, Mudahka, pale-faced, hadn't even had the chance to curse or roar. He hung up the phone unhesitatingly, grabbed the prepared suitcase, and ran straight for the waiting flying airship.

Every second counted.

In the interrogation room, the questioning continued, like shovelfuls of dirt thrown onto the coffin lid, slowly, settling into dust.

"How many of you are there?"

"In total, one hundred, one hundred seventy-four..."

"Where are you hiding?"

"Upper City District, North Ring, Prosperity Avenue number 198, and, outside the city, Acacia Ranch... the docks' warehouses..."

The confessor's expression grew increasingly twisted and fierce, intermittently saying: "In the slum's muddy pits, there's also an arms factory... He colluded with the White Country Restoration Front, recruited us, plotting to assassinate the mayor, destabilize the situation, and force you into war with the Red Country..."

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