"Have you heard how Chen Zhuonan died?" Russell answered He Youqiang's call with a question of his own.

“Yes, yes, I have…” At this point, He was completely humbled.

Authority? Dignity? None of that mattered more than life itself. Without life, everything else was meaningless.

"Well, the insect poison you were bitten with is the same kind," Russell explained in a pleasant tone.

The other end of the line remained silent for a long while before a voice finally stammered, “Is there any hope for me? As long as you spare my life, Young Master Russell, I will do anything you ask. Anything.”

He Youqiang, in a trembling voice, promised with emphasis.

"First, clear all the charges against me for drug possession and assaulting an officer. Understand?" Russell demanded coldly. "If you can't manage this condition, you're as good as dead."

"I can, I can do it. I'll make it happen immediately. I'll publicly announce that everything in the past few days was just a drill, a damn drill. Anyone who doesn’t believe me, I'll shoot them on the spot," He Youqiang assured promptly.

Under normal circumstances, even as the de facto authority in the bureau, this would have been difficult for him to accomplish. Such a significant matter typically required layer upon layer of reporting and was already recorded in archives. However, since the charges were fabricated, He Youqiang had been careful to leave himself an escape route, thus hadn’t filed the case officially. As long as he managed his internal informants, Russell’s demands could be met, albeit at considerable personal cost.

Relieved by Russell’s willingness to relent, He slumped back into his chair, taking deep breaths. The suffocating dread he had felt vanished, replaced with the realization that life was indeed beautiful when not entangled with such a dangerous foe.

“Good, then go to the shop at No. 48, Guangxing Avenue, and ask the owner for the antidote. Take it and then call me back. Oh, and remember, you have only thirty minutes. Fail to get the antidote by then, and you can wait for your blood vessels to burst,” Russell said before hanging up.

He exhaled deeply himself. After five days, his many crimes and warrants were finally expected to be cleared.

Truthfully, he wasn’t entirely sure it would work, but taking a chance had paid off.

Of course, the so-called antidote was just a concoction of random supplements to confuse He Youqiang. In reality, the poison from the insect bite wasn’t from any “blood worm” that could escalate blood flow to dangerous levels.

The blood worm used on Chen Zhuonan had been a one-time purchase for 300 points, making its cost nearly as much as a side mission. It was a one-use attack; once it injected its blood poison, the worm perished.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

He Youqiang, on the other hand, had been bitten by a less toxic insect, the Gongdoro flea. Though venomous, its effects were limited to alternating hot and cold sensations, lasting about thirty minutes.

Nevertheless, this was enough to nearly break the police chief.

Russell enjoyed his glass of red wine, savoring the classic 1982 Lafite. How could a vintage with such limited production still be consumed worldwide decades later?

But Russell didn't bother to dwell on it. The pleasure lay in the drinking, the sophistication, regardless of authenticity. Even if it was pretentious, it was still an enjoyable experience.

Sipping the wine and lighting a special edition Huanghelou cigarette, he gazed out at the seascape from the floor-to-ceiling windows, relishing the life he was now living.

The power he wielded offered him a sense of ease. The eight spiritual stones were soaking in the ice crystal bottle of the Ice Ember Crystal Fish, continuously absorbing the spiritual energy exhaled by the mother fish. Soon, they would become genuine spirit stones.

The spiritual stones and the Ice Ember Crystal Fish mother, having emerged from a five-day rest, showed promising signs. Russell retrieved the ice crystal bottle from his pet pack and realized the fish mother was visibly bloated. He anticipated that tonight would bring the birth of the first batch of ice crystal fish fry.

And yes, without a male fish, how could this pregnancy occur? Well, spiritual creatures, especially those cherished by ancient immortals, operated beyond ordinary biological conventions.

The only regret Russell had was that, in five days, his Shen Yuan power had repeatedly been exhausted, funneled into developing the "Witch Refinement and Spiritual Cultivation Technique," yet progress felt elusive.

He presumed that completing it would require more time, but this also meant the cultivation manual was profoundly mystical.

Time flew, and half an hour passed quickly. Russell received another call from He Youqiang.

Without hesitating, Russell informed him that the antidote he provided would last only 30 days. If He didn’t take a second dose within the month, his emotions could cause a fatal burst of his blood vessels.

Once bitten by the toxic insect, one carried a virtual time bomb. Without the stabilizing effect of its power, avoiding a fatal blood vessel burst required extreme self-control.

While such torment was arguably worse than death, few could endure such fear and anxiety long-term. Consequently, He Youqiang was thoroughly subdued.

"Young Master Russell, in the future, whatever you need from me, as long as it doesn't cost my life, I will follow your orders," He Youqiang promised, humbled by his predicament.

Aware of his situation, He resolved to submit to Russell’s demands, whether or not the antidote’s time limit was genuine. The power Russell wielded was beyond his means to resist. Perhaps aligning himself with Russell might lead to greater opportunities.

This clear-headed pragmatic approach often characterized political animals, and He, having decided his course, felt a sense of relief and optimism.

"Don't mess with people randomly from now on, and for ordinary matters, I won't bother you. Of course, for anything I explicitly ask you to do, you must do it with full effort, regardless of right or wrong, without questioning why," Russell instructed, leaving He with a simple directive before ending the call.

He left He Youqiang no choice but to comply—either risk his life or submit.

Russell would need time to assess if He’s submission was genuine, never fully trusting loyalties. Yet, gaining He Youqiang’s allegiance, even if inadvertently, was a significant advantage.

At least now, in southern Beijing, Russell had acquired a "patron." A patron who, in many situations, could be more reliable than even his closest family.

Indeed, if He had been a hard-headed antagonist with no fear of death, Russell would have faced a tougher challenge.