Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The interrogation lasted for nearly an hour.

Risa did not say a word from beginning to end.

Neither plead guilty nor deny guilt, nor offer any explanation.

She sat in the chair, her back ramrod straight, like a cold statue.

Only when Roy mentioned the name "Fowles" did her eyelid twitch slightly.

That's it.

Roy didn't linger in front of everyone.

He announced three things.

First, Risa is stripped of all family power effective immediately and imprisoned in a solitary confinement cell in the east wing of the manor, pending further action.

Secondly, to express our gratitude to the mysterious scholar Siren for saving our lives, we will host a banquet in the main hall of the manor tonight.

third--

He glanced around at all the elders in the hall.

"Starting tomorrow, I will regain control of all affairs within the clan."

After saying this, he turned and walked down from the platform.

He stopped a step when he reached Daisy.

He looked down at his daughter kneeling on the ground.

Reach out.

But in the end——

I didn't touch her.

He walked past her and out of the hall.

People in the hall began to whisper among themselves.

Risa was taken away by the guards.

Daisy knelt on the cold stone slab for a very long time, without standing up.

Susie emerged from behind the pillars.

She walked over to Daisy and knelt down beside her.

A small, cold hand reached out and grasped Daisy's fingers.

Daisy looked up abruptly and saw Susie's face.

That pale, always dull-witted face, which seemed to know nothing—

At this moment, it carries an extremely subtle, almost imperceptible—

Distressed.

"elder sister."

Susie's voice was very soft.

"I'll stay with you."

Daisy looked at her, and tears welled up in her eyes.

She hugged Susie tightly, buried her face in her shoulder, and cried silently.

Susie was held very tightly by her.

It was so tight that my ribs hurt a little.

But she didn't move.

She simply raised her hand, just as Daisy had once done to her—

Gently, patting my sister's back.

People came and went in the hall.

No one noticed the two girls in the corner.

One is crying.

One remained silent.

And outside the window—

It was already broad daylight.

……

After leaving the hall, Roy did not go straight back to her bedroom.

He stood at the end of the corridor in the east wing of the manor, facing a dusty window, his hands behind his back.

The morning light shone through the glass, casting a long, thin shadow of him.

His complexion was still not good.

The residual effects of the fake death drug were still eroding his meridians, and coupled with the long-term alternating erosion by parasites and Virus No. 1, even as a third-tier extraordinary being, his physical condition was far from recovered.

at best--

It just crawled out of the coffin.

"master."

The butler's voice came from behind.

Roy did not turn around.

"Have all the elders arrived?"

"Seven people arrived, but Elder Hermon and Elder Bruce's men said they were feeling unwell and would arrive later."

Roy was silent for a moment.

"Later?"

He chewed on those two words, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

It's not a laugh.

"Tell them to wait in the side hall."

He turned around and slowly walked towards the side hall.

The butler followed behind, his steps much faster than usual.

Seven elders were seated in the side hall.

Some were holding teacups, some were talking in hushed tones, and some were simply staring silently at the table.

When Roy pushed open the door, everyone stood up.

"Chieftain."

"Lord Roy, your body..."

Roy raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to sit down.

He sat down himself.

The seat was in the main seat—the leather of that high-backed chair had faded somewhat, and the armrests had developed a faint sheen.

No one has sat in this chair for a long time.

But it's not like no one has ever ridden in one.

Roy's fingers rubbed against the armrest, feeling a subtle warmth.

It wasn't left by him.

"I called you here today for only one thing."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough.

"From today onwards, all matters concerning the clan, including approvals, scheduling, and personnel appointments, will be returned to my control. Any temporary authority held by any of you that was delegated to you by others is hereby nullified."

He paused deliberately when he said "others".

The name was not mentioned.

But everyone present knew who he was talking about.

The air was still for a few seconds.

Then--

"Chieftain, about this matter..."

Elder Calvin, sitting second from the left, spoke first, his tone carrying a cautious unease.

"What you said is certainly correct, but—during the time you were unconscious, many procedures within the clan were adjusted. The current approval system, staffing, and accounts at the mine are all being managed by... Young Master David."

He paused, as if carefully choosing his words.

"It will probably take some time to hand over everything at once."

Roy looked at him.

Calvin's gaze darted away.

"How long will it take?"

"At least... three to five days."

Another elder chimed in, "Patriarch, young master David has actually done a very good job lately, managing all affairs in an orderly manner. You've just woken up and are still recovering, perhaps we could let David continue to oversee things for a while—"

"Take over?"

Roy's voice suddenly turned somber.

The temperature in the side room dropped several degrees.

The seven elders fell silent at the same time.

Roy scanned their faces.

I looked at them one by one.

Some people lowered their heads.

Some people looked unnatural.

Some people—

Expressionless.

He suddenly realized that more than half of these old guys he had trusted for decades were avoiding his gaze.

"……good."

Roy looked away.

He did not press the matter further.

He did not get angry.

He simply stood up and calmly said, "That's all for today. Everyone go back and prepare to hand over the documents. Send them to my study within three days."

After saying that, he walked out of the side hall.

The corridor is very long.

Roy's pace was a little slower than when he arrived.

It's not because of physical weakness.

Instead, he was thinking about something.

How long was he unconscious?

Less than two months.

But in less than two months, his eldest son—David, whom he had personally raised and who seemed so gentle and refined—

To what extent have they already extended their reach?

Of the seven members of the council of elders, at least three spoke up for him.

Of the remaining four, none of them stepped forward to help them.

The mine's accounts, staffing, and approval processes—everything was altered.

He didn't even have time to glance at it.

Roy pushed open the bedroom door and went inside.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, drawing a bright line on the floor.

He stood in that light and suddenly felt a little cold.

"Go and fetch David."

He said to the servant outside the door.

The voice was very calm.

But the attendant sensed something beneath that calm.

David arrived ten minutes later.

He was wearing a dark gray pinstripe suit, the buttons on his cuffs were polished to a shine, and his hair was neatly combed back.

As he entered, his steps were steady and appropriate.

Stop three steps away from Roy.

Then--

He bent down and performed a standard family salute.

"Father."

His voice was respectful, and his posture was humble.

as always.

Roy looked at him.

Looking at this eldest son who has been more sensible, well-behaved, and worry-free than anyone else since he was a child.

"sit."

David did not sit.

He straightened up, tilted his head slightly, and said in a calm tone, "Father, if you have any instructions, just stand here and say them. You've just woken up, so there's no need to be so polite."

Roy stared at him for a while.

Then he nodded.

"I just said at the elders' meeting that we need to take back control of clan affairs."

"I've heard," David nodded, his tone flat. "While Father was in a coma, I handled all the affairs on his behalf. Now that Father has awakened, it's only right that I hand them over."

He paused.

"I'll have the housekeeper organize all the ledgers, approval records, and personnel files this afternoon and deliver them to your study first thing tomorrow morning."

Roy's brow relaxed slightly.

"That's good."

David bowed slightly again.

"Is there anything else you need, Father?"

After thinking for a moment, Roy briefly recounted Risa's story—how she discovered her collusion with Fowles, how she used the fake death potion to lure the snake out of its hole, and the life-or-death struggle in the bedroom last night.

His tone turned somber at the end.

"Your mother's methods are more sophisticated than I imagined. That assassin was a third-tier assassin... If I hadn't taken the potion beforehand and been on guard, I probably would have been dead last night."

As he finished speaking, he unconsciously moved his shoulders.

The side effects of the fake death drug caused his joints to ache slightly, and last night's fight had depleted a significant portion of his recovery reserves.

His current state—

It's at most half of its peak.

Perhaps even fewer.

He didn't notice that David, who was listening intently with his head down, had his pupils contract extremely slightly when he heard the keywords "fake death potion" and "third-order combat".

"Father."

David looked up.

His expression—

Very peaceful.

Like a still body of water.

There was no shock, no anger, no intense emotional turmoil that a son should experience upon learning that his mother murdered his father.

He simply looked at Roy calmly.

Then he said something.

"Father, do you mean—you, who just feigned death, are still in a weakened state?"

Roy was taken aback.

He felt the question was a bit odd.

It's not that the wording is strange.

Rather, it's just that the angle is strange.

When a normal son hears about his father's near-death experience, shouldn't his first reaction be to care about his injuries, ask for details, or be filled with righteous indignation?

Why—

Is this to confirm the degree of weakness?

The thought lasted for less than half a second.

Because in the next instant, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

It is a pain that penetrates through the body.

Roy looked down and saw a hand.

A long, clean hand with neatly trimmed nails—

It was piercing through the front of his chest cavity.

A layer of dark blue, extraordinary aura lingered between his fingers.

That is—the power of a third-order aberrant.

Blood trickled down that hand.

Tick.

Tick.

Roy slowly raised his head.

He saw David's face.

Very close.

So close that you can see the curve of the other person's eyelashes.

David's expression remained unchanged.

It was still that gentle, respectful face, one that left no room for criticism.

Just the eyes—

There was not a trace of hesitation in those eyes.

"you……"

Roy's lips moved slightly.

A metallic sweetness rose in my throat.

He tried to say something, but his vocal cords were choked by the rush of blood.

David did not immediately pull his hand away.

He maintained this posture, feeling the slowing heartbeat in his palm.

He slowly pulled his arm out after it had completely stopped.

Blood was flowing down his sleeve.

The dark gray pinstriped suit had a large patch of dark red stains on the forearm.

Roy's body fell backward.

She didn't collapse onto the bed.

He fell to the floor.

His eyes were still open.

In his final moments before dying, he looked at the ceiling.

Looking at the brass chandelier that he had had replaced three times.

Then, with his last bit of strength, he turned his gaze to his son in front of him.

"What good would it do you to kill me?"

His voice seemed to come from a very far place.

Blurred. Intermittent.

David crouched down.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and calmly wiped the bloodstains from his hands.

Wipe it one finger at a time.

It was wiped very clean.

Then he looked up at his father on the ground.

"Father."

His tone was exactly the same as when he came in.

Respectful, gentle, and impeccable.

"After you die, I will manage the Link family well."

Roy looked at him.

He finally understood something.

He thought his enemy was Risa.

He thought his plan to lure the snake out of its hole was foolproof.

He believed that faking his death, waking up, and regaining power were all within his control.

But he overlooked one person from beginning to end.

The person he trusts most.

The person he personally trained.

His son...

Roy's eyes slowly closed.

The pool of blood on the ground grew larger and larger.

The dark red liquid spread along the grain of the floor, soaking the clean clothes he had changed into less than twelve hours ago.

The bedroom was quiet for a moment.

Then--

The door opened.

A person walked in.

I saw everything on the ground.

There was no scream.

There is no regret.

He didn't even breathe out of tune.

"master."

It was the butler's voice.

His tone was so flat, as if he were reporting today's menu.

"What's next?"

David stood up.

He folded the blood-stained handkerchief and put it in his suit pocket.

"First."

His voice was steady and clear.

"Immediately send men to surround Xilun's residence. This man's improper treatment caused my father to suffer a relapse of his hidden injuries after barely regaining consciousness, resulting in his sudden death—arrest him on this ground."

The butler nodded.

"Second, send someone to the East Wing detention room to bring my mother out."

The butler nodded again.

"third--"

David paused suddenly.

He turned to the side and coughed a few times.

It wasn't an act.

The action of piercing his father's chest seemed effortless, but Roy was, after all, a third-tier extraordinary being—even in a weakened state, the extraordinary power remaining in his body produced a violent backlash the moment he was pierced.

David's right arm was numb from his shoulder to his fingertips.

My ribs also ache slightly.

But on his face—

I can't see anything.

"third."

He wiped his mouth, his tone unchanged.

"Susie harbors malicious intentions and has ulterior motives towards the family. Take her down as well."

The butler accepted the order and left.

David was left alone in the bedroom.

And the corpses on the ground.

He looked down at Roy's face.

That face that was once majestic, that once filled him with awe, that once inspired him to clench his fists in the dead of night and vow to surpass it—

It's quiet now.

David stood there, gazing for a long time.

His expression remained unchanged from beginning to end.

There was no joy.

There was no sadness.

There is no liberation.

only--

A silent, taken-for-granted calm.

It felt like something that should have been done a long time ago had been accomplished.

That's it.