Qi Feng · Chat

In the abandoned warehouse, only a single, old, yellowed pendant lamp hung, its cord swaying gently in the wind. The fractured light and shadow stretched into distorted, cold, and menacing silhouettes on the cracked concrete floor. A piercing cold wind, carrying fine grains of snow, rushed in through the broken window frames. The air everywhere was thick with the oppressive scent of cold rust, damp mold, and heavy dread. The ground was frozen hard, and even the air felt like it could cut to the bone. Chen Mo leaned against a rust-stained steel pillar, the glow from his pale white tablet making his features appear even more cold and sharp. His fingertips slid rapidly, retrieving classified data, while the faint light projected silently onto the mottled wall, wordlessly proclaiming a heaven-defying crime. "Brother Feng, the evidence is conclusive. This person accepted a massive bribe from Thunderstorm and leaked all of Red Shadow's transportation nodes at the West End docks, along with the guard deployments and handover times. It resulted in the loss of our brothers and the interception of a large quantity of important goods." His tone was steady and indifferent, devoid of ups and downs, but his eyes were a sheet of icy frost, without a hint of warmth. "The fund transfers, private recordings, and meeting trajectories are all here. There is no way to argue, and no way to escape." Beside him, Zhao Lie stepped forward, his tall and burly frame like a mountain or a black tower, firmly pinning down the shivering traitor. His rough, broad knuckles tightly gripped a heavy iron bar, his veins bulging and tense, his joints turning pale. An aura of heavy malice surrounded him, making it hard for anyone to breathe. "This guy refuses to repent. Just now, he even tried to slam his head against a pillar to end it himself and escape his crimes." The iron bar was tossed slightly in his palm, the dull, heavy metallic thud echoing through the empty warehouse with a bone-chilling sound. The traitor trembled violently, babbling broken pleas for mercy, already collapsed on the ground, having lost all semblance of courage. Qi Feng slowly stepped out from the thick shadows. His long black trench coat was dusted with fine, unmelted snow, his aura cold and sharp. His clean-cut short hair accentuated his gaunt and fierce features, and his dark eyes were as cold as a deep winter pool. When he looked at the traitor, it was as if he were looking at a piece of insignificant, filthy trash. With his fingertips, he lightly flicked a segment of cigarette ash. A few stray sparks landed on the traitor's bleeding wrist, and the sudden searing pain caused the man to let out a sharp, wretched howl. "The routes handled by Red Shadow were personally laid out and finalized by Master San. You actually dared to sell them out in secret?" His deep voice carried the chill of wind and snow, each word cold as an ice-sealed blade, pressing the entire warehouse into a deathly silence, until even the sound of the wind seemed to fade. "The rules of the underworld: those who betray their comrades and leak secrets... you already know very well what the outcome is." The traitor's throat made a difficult, rattling sound. His blood-stained fingers frantically grabbed Qi Feng's trouser leg, crying and begging for mercy in a state of utter disarray, his posture humbled to the very dust. "Brother Feng! I know I was wrong! The other side coerced and threatened me, I had no choice! Please, spare me this once!" A faint, cold sneer escaped Qi Feng's throat, the mirth icy to the bone and never reaching his eyes. He slowly applied pressure with his foot, heavily grinding down on the traitor's broken hand. The crisp, fine sound of cracking bones mingled with the screams, sounding particularly piercing in the cold wind. "Coerced you?" He leaned down slightly, his cold features drawing close, the malice in his eyes terrifying to the extreme. "When you were taking the money to enjoy yourself and betraying your brothers, why didn't you think about today's ending?" Straightening his body, he faintly tilted his chin toward Hao Mei standing nearby. His eyes were cold and expressionless, his tone flat and casual, yet it carried the absolute pressure of Xinhai City's underworld that no one dared to defy. "Handle it according to the old rules." As the words fell, Zhao Lie immediately stepped forward, grabbing the traitor by the arm and half-dragging, half-carrying him toward the pitch-black back door deep in the warehouse. The traitor's wretched pleas grew more distant, gradually dissolving into the howling wind and snow, until finally returning to a complete, deathly silence. Only the wail of the cold wind blowing through the windows remained in the warehouse. The light from the pendant lamp continued to sway, leaving only a few messy drag marks on the ground. There was no longer any movement; everything had returned to a dead quiet.