Handong: Sha Li wants political achievements? I'll shut down the entire province.

Sha Ruijin's words, "Make room for Yan Qingfeng," were like a heavy blow.

They pinned Li Dakang firmly to the boss's chair.

The office door was slammed shut, leaving only a deathly silence inside.

The manila envelope on the table was open, with high-definition screenshots of dark web live streams spread out on top.

Li Dakang stared at the assassin in the screen, whose head was the only part of his body visible.

The assassin screamed desperately in the black water, his facial muscles contorted with fear.

Li Dakang felt a chill run down his spine and up to his head.

He felt ice-cold all over, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and even his teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

The bottomless Guangming Lake in the photo looks like a huge, dark mouth.

It's as if it could swallow any disobedient bone whole, leaving not even a trace.

Is this still the same businessman who only knows how to make money?

This guy is a living devil who eats people without spitting out the bones!

They can manipulate both the legitimate and criminal worlds however they want.

Recalling five days ago, I was in this room, slamming my fist on the table and forcing a billionaire CEO to bleed money.

Li Dakang felt like a monkey doing somersaults in the palm of Buddha's hand, which was ridiculous.

He held onto the edge of the table, his legs feeling like lead, and stumbled into the bathroom in the suite.

The faucet was suddenly turned on, and a jet of icy water gushed out.

Li Dakang scooped up a handful of cold water and splashed it desperately on his face, trying to sober himself up.

Water droplets dripped down his cheeks as he straightened up, bracing himself against the sink.

I looked up at the gleaming mirror.

He froze after just one glance, even his breath caught in his throat.

The person in the mirror had sunken eyes, high cheekbones, and a sallow complexion.

He looked like a living dead person who had just been drained of all his blood.

The most glaring thing was that the hair on his temples had turned a large white patch after just one week of high-pressure torture!

Li Dakang touched his graying temples with trembling hands.

The once spirited and energetic municipal party secretary now looks like an old man on his deathbed.

"This is what happens when you act like a tyrant!"

He pointed at himself in the mirror and cursed, but his voice was hoarse, like a leaky bellows.

"It's over...it's all over."

He muttered to himself, a bitter laugh that sounded worse than crying escaping his throat.

Guangmingfeng's political achievements became a laughing stock across the internet, and Handong's GDP plummeted to rock bottom.

The feathers that had been painstakingly cultivated over decades were burned to ashes with a single flick of Yan Qingfeng's wrist.

He dragged his heavy steps back to his desk and locked the door from the inside.

The secretary, Xiao Jin, knocked anxiously on the door from outside.

"Secretary Li, you haven't eaten all day, shall I get you some food?"

"Get out! Don't bother me!" Li Dakang shouted hoarsely, then slumped back into his chair.

He unplugged the landline and turned off his mobile phone.

He took out a thick stack of municipal party committee letterhead from the drawer and unscrewed the Hero fountain pen that he had used for ten years.

The pen tip hovered over the paper, but my hand trembled so much that I couldn't bring myself to write it.

"despair."

A single, murky tear fell onto the letter, instantly spreading into a wet patch.

Li Dakang gritted his teeth, suppressing the soreness in his chest, and began to write lines of text on the paper.

From blind arrogance when forcing donations to brutal incompetence when handling crises.

He did not shirk any responsibility and took all the blame upon himself.

When he wrote about the part about being forced to donate, he even felt like slapping himself twice.

He wrote for an entire night.

All night long, the only sound in the office was the scratching of pens across paper.

The sky outside the window changed from pitch black to gray-white, then was torn apart by the first rays of morning sunlight.

Li Dakang put down his pen and rubbed his sore wrist.

On the table was a self-criticism letter that was a full ten thousand words long.

The handwriting was messy, and the pages were wrinkled from being soaked in tears.

He took a deep breath, carefully folded the letter of self-criticism, and stuffed it into his briefcase.

Pushing open the office door, Xiao Jin was dozing against the corridor wall when she heard the noise and was suddenly awakened.

"Secretary Li! Your hair..."

Xiao Jin stared at Li Dakang's graying temples, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Prepare the car. To the provincial party committee compound." Li Dakang's voice was so hoarse that he didn't have the strength to say another word.

Half an hour later, at the Provincial Party Committee's No. 1 Office.

Sha Ruijin had also stayed up all night, with dark circles under his eyes, and was worrying about a pile of messy reports.

When Sha Ruijin saw Li Dakang push the door open and enter, he was stunned for a moment, and the hand holding the cigarette froze in mid-air.

"Dakang, what happened to your hair overnight...?"

Li Dakang didn't reply. He walked to the desk and handed over the thick letter of self-criticism with both hands.

He bowed deeply, his waist bent very low.

"Secretary Sha, I have failed the provincial party committee's cultivation and the people of Handong."

Li Dakang's voice carried a deathly stillness, a sense of utter resignation.

"This 10,000-word self-criticism was handwritten by me last night."

He straightened up, his eyes red and bloodshot.

"I, Li Dakang, will take full responsibility for driving away the God of Wealth."

"I request to resign and accept the most severe punishment from the organization. I hope this will quell Yan Qingfeng's anger."

Sha Ruijin looked at the crumpled self-criticism on the table, feeling a mix of emotions.

He knew Li Dakang too well; he was a man who valued political achievements more than his own life.

If someone is willing to hand over their official position, it means they have truly been forced to the brink of disaster.

"Dakang, do you think you can plug this hole just by resigning?"

Sha Ruijin sighed and was just about to reach for the letter of self-criticism.

"Ring ring—"

The red secure phone on the table suddenly emitted a sharp, piercing ringtone, as if it were a death knell.

In the quiet office, the ringing was as eerie as a midnight horror movie.

Both of them shuddered simultaneously, their eyes fixed on the red landline phone.

It rarely rings, maybe once a year.

Sha Ruijin's palms were sweating profusely as he shakily grabbed the microphone and held it to his ear.

"Hello, this is Sha Ruijin."

A deep, authoritative male voice came from the other end of the phone, filled with an undeniable rage.

Even without speakerphone, Li Dakang could clearly hear the sound of the glass being smashed on the other end.

"Sha Ruijin, does your entire Handong Provincial Party Committee intend to report to the Discipline Inspection Commission?"

The roaring on the phone made Sha Ruijin's eardrums ache, and he instinctively bent over. He tried his best to control himself…

"Control my ass! You've turned a perfectly good place like Handong into a quagmire!"

"Several factories in Western countries have had their power cuts, and the foreign affairs offices' inboxes are overflowing with protest letters!"

"You've dragged down the nation's economic indicators; who's to blame for that?"

Sha Ruijin was so frightened that he repeatedly agreed, his face drained of all color.

"I don't care what method you use! You're going to kowtow to that Yan Qingfeng!"

The voice on the other end of the phone carried an unquestionable, absolute command.

"If the Lingxiao Consortium doesn't resume operations within 48 hours, you and Li Dakang can pack your bags and head back to Beijing to await punishment!"

With a "snap," the phone was abruptly disconnected.

Sha Ruijin put down the microphone with a deathly pale face, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold the cigarette.

He turned his head, looked at Li Dakang who was also grieving, and gave a bitter smile.

"Secretary Sha, what... what exactly is the order from above?"

Li Dakang's legs went weak, and he gripped the back of the chair tightly, his voice trembling.

Sha Ruijin grabbed the 10,000-word self-criticism, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the trash can.

"Resign? You don't even have the right to resign anymore!"

He gritted his teeth, his eyes revealing a desperate madness.

"Go, call Hou Liangping! Tell him to immediately bring the Supreme People's Procuratorate's document withdrawing the case!"

Sha Ruijin, panting heavily, kicked aside his office chair and strode out.

Li Dakang swallowed hard and quickly chased after him to stop him.

"Secretary Sha, with Director Hou's stubborn and inflexible temper, do you really think he'd be willing to bow his head and admit his mistake?"

Sha Ruijin stopped in his tracks, staring at him coldly, his eyes bloodshot as if he wanted to devour someone.

"He's not going? If he's not going, I'll personally send someone to tie him up and take him there!"