Just as Russell was securing his position in the fierce battle, Chen Jincheng was facing utter disaster. The news of Chen Zhuonan’s death quickly spread among the key figures in Xuanyang district, reaching all the interested ears within half a day.

With this powerful tree fallen, the first to suffer was naturally his elder brother, Chen Jincheng, who had relied heavily on Chen Zhuonan's authority and influence to act arrogantly in Xuanyang district.

"What? The Spia Building Materials Company has decided to stop supplying us? And they're asking for immediate clearance of our outstanding steel accounts?"

"Boss, the bank's debt collectors are here too." Zhu Lu reported nervously, her heart pounding.

At that moment, the office phone rang again urgently, undoubtedly more of the same issues cropping up.

The saying "when the wall falls, everyone pushes" was proving true. At this moment, Chen Jincheng finally understood that he was done for. His company's funds were tied up in operations, and with his brother’s backing, he had never worried about cash flow. He had been playing a high-stakes game, leveraging everything on borrowed time.

For instance, he would buy land at extremely low prices, then use the land as collateral to secure bank loans. Once the loans came through, he would start building a couple of floors to attract buyers, selling as he built to draw in funds to continue construction.

Naturally, all building materials were acquired on credit. With a powerful district figure in tow, who would dare cross him? Even the construction workers' wages were fronted by the construction company.

This cycle allowed him to expand rapidly without using much of his capital, but it came with a major downside: a single problem in the chain could bring everything crashing down.

And now, with his main support fallen, that crucial stabilizing link was broken, leading to an unstoppable storm that no amount of rescue efforts could mitigate.

This was precisely Russell's plan. Having worked in Chen Jincheng’s company before, he knew this all too well. Bringing down Chen Zhuonan meant Chen Jincheng was nothing. Their roles had reversed dramatically. Now, Russell was not just a nobody; with a reliable figure in the position of a police chief behind him, he had a solid backing.

"Why? Why did this happen? It's him, it must be him..." Chen Jincheng never dreamed that the small ant he tried to crush would back him into a corner.

He could not fathom how a seemingly insignificant person could unleash such power.

There’s an old saying, "Do not scorn a youth for his poverty." Many who ignore it meet a tragic end.

With bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair, Chen Jincheng looked terrifying. Zhu Lu, unaware of her boss's downfall, hoped to play the loyal subordinate role in this time of crisis. But she miscalculated.

"Boss, calm down. I'll make you a cup of ginseng tea," Zhu Lu cooed softly.

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"Slap." The room echoed with a sharp, clear sound.

"Get out." "Get away, you bitch. Don't think I don't know what you're up to. Get out, I have no time to play with you." Chen Jincheng, pushed to the brink, roared wildly, instilling terror.

The pitiable Zhu Lu could only cover her swollen face in fright, her eyes full of venom as she retreated.

Little did Chen Jincheng know, this slap had severed his last hope.

Soon after, his office door burst open with a loud crash.

A group of menacing thugs stormed in, clearly uncaring for human life.

"Who... who are you...?" In the face of death, Chen Jincheng's madness, his rage, evaporated, leaving only fear. The essence of bullying the weak and fearing the strong played out vividly at this moment.

He couldn't understand how these people bypassed all his security measures on the 33rd floor without any warning from his informants.

He had numerous contingency plans in place to protect against such revenge attacks, including cutting elevator power and using hidden escape routes. This time, though, there had been no warning. In that instant, he recalled Zhu Lu’s resentful gaze as she left.

"That wretched bitch." Always playing with women, only to be killed by one in the end—was this karma for the brothers?

"Take him out, chop him up," the leader commanded. Without further ado, they charged with gleaming cleavers, hacking away.

Their "boss" had instructed them that as long as they killed this old man, each would receive fifty thousand yuan. The more brutal the attack, the more they’d earn.

These men were seasoned; they didn’t aim to finish him with a single strike but targeted non-fatal areas.

Within minutes, the once thunderous Chen Jincheng lay on the floor, breathing his last. Though he remained alive for the moment, the horror of his screams made everyone’s skin crawl.

"Want to know who ordered this?" The leader asked, exhaling a smoke ring, clearly enjoying himself.

Beside him, an atypical man with glasses recorded the scene on a digital camera—evidence for the "boss."

In the end, everyone in the office was elated, the job done and done well. Perhaps more money would follow, they mused.

Pointing out the window, the leader said, "He told me to tell you his name is Pan Fan. I hope you remember him. Such a grudge…" With that, he led his men out. The entire affair took less than five minutes.

Only Chen Jincheng, left gasping on the floor, remained, his gaze filled with fear and resentment.

"Help me..." He wanted to cry out, but who would care now?

He recalled Pan Fan clearly, even after two years—a man whose wife he had raped, and whose high school daughter had not been spared.

...

Not far from Chen Jincheng’s company, in a suite of the Century Hotel, a young man with a roguish demeanor entered.

"Boss, I have some unfortunate news," O'Neil said, wagging his finger and grinning smugly. "Your great enemy was hacked to death just minutes ago by a mob. Hahaha..."

The so-called bad news jolted Russell. Dead? He’s actually dead?

But as relief washed over him, Russell relaxed. It was better this way; he needn't clean up the aftermath himself. He wasn’t bloodthirsty, but neither would he allow himself to be bullied, especially when his limits were breached. Even if reluctant, Russell wouldn’t show mercy.

He understood that mercy toward someone like Chen Jincheng would cost him dearly, a price he couldn’t afford. Now that Chen was dead, Russell could let it go.

Moreover, this reduced the risk of exposure. Using the "insect technique" to eliminate Chen Zhuonan had been risky.

After all, Zhuonan was a district leader, a key figure with significant power. His sudden death would surely draw scrutiny, Russell doubted there would be no investigation. Fortunately, the blood worm's silent strike, unnoticed even by Zhuonan’s mistress, had left no trace.

The fact that Zhuonan died in the midst of an affair—a grave scandal on its own—meant the matter wasn’t pursued further, to Russell’s relief.

With that threat neutralized, it was time to set up the Spirit Trap Array. Initially, he could have done this five days ago, but circumstances delayed him.

Reflecting on this, an eager light crept into Russell’s usually composed eyes.

Completing this task meant more than just constructing a divine array; it marked his first system upgrade—a milestone rich with potential.

Russell felt a thrill at the prospect.