Desperate people, accept the seed of my soul!

Xu Suyuan.

Wen Yan had some recollection of this name.

He had previously glimpsed one in the scrolling text of an evening news program when he was searching for a suitable candidate.

He clicked on it.

The poster claimed to be one of Xu Suyuan's few long-time viewers, and his words were full of worry and helplessness.

The post said that after Heo So-won went missing, her grandmother, who was her only family and suffered from Alzheimer's disease, was left without anyone to take care of her, and her situation deteriorated rapidly. She is now on the verge of collapse.

Xu Suyuan's live streaming account, which had only a few followers, had long since stopped being updated, and the platform's homepage only displayed a line of small gray text: "The streamer's contract with the platform has expired."

Two screenshots are attached below the post.

One image shows Xu Suyuan during a past live stream. The girl is wearing an inexpensive T-shirt, with a clean and sweet smile, and is trying her best to show off her talents to the camera.

The other image is a blurry CCTV footage of her last appearance outside a coffee shop. Her back is slender as she walks alone on the street at dusk before disappearing completely.

The girl's situation—disappearance and the endangerment of her loved ones—is itself an instruction manual for a desperate situation.

Will she be the "suitable one"?

The Seed of the Soul bestowed upon him more than just a gift of power.

When he concentrates, he can also vaguely sense the intense emotional fluctuations in the city, especially despair and hatred, like beacon fires in the darkness.

Although it is impossible to pinpoint the exact location, if there is a specific target individual as an "anchor" for the projection of thoughts, this perception can be greatly enhanced and guided.

With the specific image of "Xu Suyuan" in dire straits as an anchor, Wen Yan slowly closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking completely into the depths of his soul.

He used the extreme pain and longing that "Xu Suyuan" might have carried as a template for sensing, and tried to capture the vibrations that resonated with her in the void.

In the void of the soul, he detected a faint, synchronized frequency fluctuation.

Although faint, the core emotion it conveyed was chillingly pure—a primal yearning for "freedom" before death, and a pure, unadulterated hatred for the perpetrator.

The intensity of his despair and persistence reminded Wen Yan of Chen Guohua, who was filled with a death wish when he was kicked to the ground.

As he tried to make contact, fragmented, chaotic images of pain intermittently flooded Wen Yan's mind:

A small, enclosed, pure white space...

The tactile sensation of skin touching a metal table...

The constant humming of the equipment in my ears is incredibly annoying...

And then, the face of an old woman covered in wrinkles kept appearing in my mind, and that deep longing and guilt for not being able to fulfill my filial duties almost tore my soul apart.

She's the one.

Xu Suyuan.

Deep within his soul, the seed radiating a soft light was gently peeled away by Wen Yan's will.

Wen Yan's consciousness guided the seed, following the faint yet resonant wave of despair, and led it back to its source.

Go forth, sprout even in confinement.

See for me... what will grow at the end of that despair.

------

The top-floor office of the Wei Group headquarters.

Zhang Jingyi stood respectfully in front of the desk, bowing his head and saying, "Chairman, as per your instructions, the three investigations have been fully launched."

Wei Donghai nodded slightly: "Tell me in detail."

"First, we are currently integrating the detailed whereabouts of Chen Guohua over the past year, including all medical records, expense bills, and street surveillance footage. A preliminary report is expected to be available tonight."

"Secondly," Zhang Jingyi lowered his voice even further, "we have obtained some original biological samples of Chen Guohua's body from the forensic center through the group's 'friends,' including unprocessed tissue sections and blood residues. These have now been secretly sent to the group's holding cooperative research and development institution, 'Chenxi Biomedicine,' for in-depth analysis."

Zhang Jingyi paused for a moment after reporting this.

"Thirdly, regarding the 'Morning Light Biomedicine' project, the 'Research on the Correlation between Specific Emotions and Physiological Potential' led by Dr. Lin, I have conveyed your instruction to expedite the progress."

"Not enough," Wei Donghai said.

The light from the window stretched his shadow long, like a lurking beast.

"Tell Dr. Lin that what I want to see is not 'acceleration,' but 'breakthrough progress.' Chen Guohua's post-mortem data is the best catalyst for his research. A terminal uremia patient who has been given a death sentence by doctors can unleash such a force that defies the laws of physics; this is far more than just a psychological issue."

A fanatical light gleamed in Wei Donghai's eyes: "I want him to immediately adjust his research direction and focus on this case. I need to know whether, under the stimulation of extreme despair and hatred, the human body might secrete special biomass or hormones that are not yet recorded in our current scientific system and can unleash enormous potential!"

Zhang Jingyi felt a chill run down his spine; he could hear the undisguised greed in Wei Donghai's words.

But he still braced himself and conveyed the concerns of the frontline researchers: "Chairman, Dr. Lin reported that... the intensity of the stimulation in the experiment is currently very high, and several subjects have shown serious signs of both physical and psychological collapse because they cannot withstand it."

"If we continue to apply unlimited extreme pressure as you request, I'm afraid... there will be deaths, and the data collected may lose its value due to individual breakdowns."

"Collapse?" Wei Donghai sneered, as if he had heard a joke. "Collapse itself is the most important part of the data they need to collect! It's an honor for a bunch of useless social trash to contribute their physiological parameters to the progress of science."

He walked up to Zhang Jingyi, and the invisible pressure he exerted made the latter almost unable to breathe.

"I don't want excuses. What I need is a 'reproducible and explainable' scientific model! Let Dr. Lin use the latest equipment we ordered from overseas, reduce the use of all inhibitory drugs, and I need the most authentic, original, and immediate response data! I want to see the screams of every cell in a person under extreme conditions!"

Wei Donghai's voice was low and suppressed: "Zixuan's death cannot be wasted."

"If there is indeed some biochemical mechanism behind the 'abnormalities' that have not yet been recorded by humans... even if it is just a rare phenomenon that only occurs under extreme conditions, as long as we can grasp even the slightest pattern, its value will far exceed that of an heir. That is not a trade secret, Jingyi, that will be a more powerful 'weapon' than any law or money."

Zhang Jingyi's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

He finally realized that his boss was no longer satisfied with worldly money and power.

The massacre at the Heavenly Palace did not frighten him; instead, it opened a door to a more dangerous and darker realm for him.

What he wanted to control was that forbidden power that could turn mortals into demons.

"Tell Dr. Lin," Wei Donghai walked back to his desk, like a king issuing an ultimatum, "I'll add another 300% to the project funding. But within three months, I must see a directional data report. Otherwise, there's no point in continuing this 'Dawn Bio' collaborative project."

"Yes... I understand."

Zhang Jingyi lowered her head deeply, concealing the fear in her eyes.

He accepted the order, turned around, and slowly walked out of the suffocating office.

The moment the door closed behind him, he leaned against the wall and realized that his legs were a little weak.

He realized that Wei Donghai had completely gone mad.

And he himself, as a henchman of this mad beast, was being mercilessly pushed into that vortex that could devour everything.