He stood rigid on the high gantry, utterly motionless save for the rapid flicker and shift in his gaze.

He had long been utterly disillusioned with society, with his parents, relatives, and classmates, but it was only this younger brother, still in primary school, that he could not bear to let go of.

“Brother, did we do wrong?”

“Brother, even though Mom and Dad called you an idiot, I still support you.”

“Brother, let’s never do anything good again, okay?”

“Brother…”

Tears burst from his eyes. Feng Liang sank down onto the structure, gripping the iron support beside him, howling and beating his chest with desperate force.

Wang Zhuo quickly gestured and winked at the driver of the utility vehicle. Noticing the signal, the driver immediately understood, slowly steering the vehicle toward Feng Liang.

The negotiation specialist soon arrived beside Feng Liang. The tip of the aerial ladder extended over the bridge structure, stopping within easy reach of Feng Liang.

“Feng Liang!” Wang Zhuo pointed upwards from the bridge deck and shouted loudly, “Think about your brother! If you just end it all, how is he supposed to live?”

Feng Liang, mid-sob, paused and choked out, “What should I do?”

Wang Zhuo spat dismissively, “You have a million ways out. Get down here first and we’ll talk.”

Feng Liang was in a state where coaxing wouldn’t work, and pushing would only make him retreat further. The more Wang Zhuo tried to placate him, the more Feng Liang felt he was being placated or deceived. It was precisely Wang Zhuo’s aggressive stance that worked on him.

If Wang Zhuo had told him, ‘Come down first, and we’ll figure things out slowly,’ Feng Liang would surely have flown into a rage again, believing Wang Zhuo was tricking or fobbing him off. But Wang Zhuo’s contemptuous order to get down made him believe Wang Zhuo genuinely had a solution.

In truth, the negotiation specialist hanging from the aerial ladder knew this tactic, but only Wang Zhuo could deploy it. As a public official, the specialist knew it was effective yet dared not use it; if Feng Liang couldn't withstand the provocation and jumped, the specialist would bear responsibility.

Seeing Feng Liang finally reach out for the ladder, Wang Zhuo let out a breath of relief, only for the young man to suddenly pull his hand back.

“But if I don’t jump, they’ll all laugh at me, call me a coward, a wimp!” Feng Liang shouted hysterically again.

Having struggled on the gantry for over an hour, Feng Liang was trapped in a no-win situation—a feeling that if he didn't jump, he wouldn't be a man, and if he didn't jump, he would be ridiculed.

Wang Zhuo jabbed a finger at him impatiently, “You aren’t even afraid of death, so why are you afraid of being laughed at?”

Having shouted, he turned his head, his expression icy as he swept his gaze over the dense crowd behind him. His cold stare instantly silenced everyone who had been murmuring insults or complaints directed at Feng Liang.

There was still a bloodied man sitting on the ground; the recent example was still fresh. Who would willingly invite the same fate?

A few onlookers, feeling they weren't weak and didn't hold Wang Zhuo in high regard, hesitated. But as the ancient saying goes, trouble starts when one sticks their neck out. Seeing how aggressively Wang Zhuo acted—daring to strike someone right in front of the police and TV cameras—they recognized him as a formidable character. Thus, adopting the attitude that it’s better to avoid trouble than seek it, they kept quiet.

After a moment of hesitation, Feng Liang finally seemed to understand: Let them insult me, mock me, destroy me, curse me—so what? Let them curse. I only need a clear conscience.

The negotiation specialist finally grasped Feng Liang’s thin arm and carefully helped him onto the ladder. The utility vehicle moved slowly. A few meters away from the gantry, the hydraulic mechanism clicked softly, and the ladder began to descend to a safe height.

The specialist then released Feng Liang, climbing down a few rungs himself before jumping to the ground.

“I’ll go talk to him for a minute,” Wang Zhuo said, patting the shoulder of the female police officer who was clinging tightly to his arm.

“You…” the officer hesitated, then asked, “You have to promise not to strike anyone again before I let you go.”

Wang Zhuo smiled faintly, nodding toward Feng Liang’s position. “Fine, I promise not to hit him.”

The female officer slowly released her grip and followed Wang Zhuo as he walked quickly toward Feng Liang.

As soon as Wang Zhuo moved, two friends of the man who had been beaten immediately sprang into action; one moved to help the injured man up, and the other pulled out a phone to dial.

Lively discussions erupted from the surrounding crowd, but those disappointed that the suicide spectacle hadn't materialized were slightly more subdued. Who knew if that volatile young man had sharp ears? No one wanted to draw a beating just to win a verbal spat—that wouldn't be fun.

A police officer standing on the step of a squad car shouted through a loudspeaker, “Everyone, please return to your vehicles. The road will open shortly!”

The crowd began to disperse slowly, lingering for a while, as many onlookers were reluctant to leave the excitement.

“That guy is too tragic. That Kappa outfit cost nearly two thousand; it’s all soaked in blood now, it’ll never come clean.”

“I saw him arrive in a Cayenne. He probably isn’t a pushover; this probably isn't over yet.”

“Tch, you guys don’t know the half of it. The guy who did the hitting wasn’t broke either—he was driving an imported sports car, over three million yuan!”

“Looks like we’ll have a good thread on Mop tomorrow…”

...

The moment Feng Liang’s feet touched the ground, his legs felt weak, his body utterly drained, unable to muster any strength.

Having baked under the sun for over an hour, coupled with extreme mental excitement and tension, all while being in such a perilous environment, his muscles had remained tense. Once he was back on stable ground, his body simply gave out.

He collapsed onto the ground. A nurse handed him a bottle of mineral water. When he took it, his hands trembled so violently he couldn’t twist the cap off.

“Scared now, are we?”

A soft chuckle sounded beside him, followed by a pair of long, strong hands reaching over to take the bottle. They easily twisted the cap off and handed it back to him.

“I’m not scared, I’m just out of strength,” Feng Liang managed, glancing at Wang Zhuo, who had squatted down beside him, and forcing a wry smile before taking a sip.

Wang Zhuo looked up at the high-ranking police official leading the team. “Is he going to be detained?”

The Chief Inspector nodded expressionlessly. “Since you assaulted someone, you’ll need to come back to the precinct with us for investigation.”

Wang Zhuo shrugged indifferently. Spotting the television crew approaching rapidly with their cameras and booms, he grinned and clapped Feng Liang on the shoulder, rising to his feet.

“Don’t film me.”

He spoke before the female reporter could utter a word. “I can agree to an audio-only interview, but no faces on camera.”

Who does he think he is, deciding what’s acceptable? The TV crew grumbled inwardly. The cameraman ignored them, hoisted his massive camera, and was about to power it up when Wang Zhuo stepped forward, pressed down on the lens, and locked it.

Arrogant, utterly arrogant! The TV crew bristled with indignation. Jiangzhou Satellite TV was a national broadcaster with over three hundred million viewers; their news team carried weight everywhere they went. And this fellow dared to touch the recording equipment? Who did he think he was—a Central Government leader?

The surrounding crowd erupted. Those who had started to leave stopped, and those who had walked a few paces turned back, rushing toward the renewed commotion to see what was happening.

Wang Zhuo glanced at the rather ordinary-looking female reporter, privately musing why it wasn't one of those idol-level beauty anchors he read about in novels interviewing him—this was terribly underwhelming.

“Here is my press pass,” the female reporter stated, raising her credential, her voice even and composed. “This matter concerns public welfare; you have an obligation to cooperate with the interview. If you refuse, we reserve the right to broadcast the live situation exactly as it unfolds.”

This statement carried a clear undertone of threat. Numerous officials who had refused cooperation later fell from grace after being broadcasted 'as is.' Even for an ordinary person, a slanted broadcast by a major network could severely complicate life thereafter.

Wang Zhuo genuinely wasn't sure if this 'obligation' was real or not, but he certainly had his own countermeasures.

He smiled slightly. The hand resting on the camera lens slid smoothly toward the side of the camera body. Click. The cameraman felt an immediate lightness; nearly half a kilogram of battery had vanished into Wang Zhuo’s grasp.

The crowd gasped in amazement. Most people had never even seen a professional TV interview camera up close, let alone watched someone casually remove the battery like Wang Zhuo had just done. This move was not only skillful but guaranteed to infuriate the TV crew—the real show was starting.

The female reporter and the cameraman froze. That interview camera cost over two hundred thousand yuan, and that single battery alone was worth more than ten thousand. Normally, they handled disassembly with extreme care, terrified of causing a malfunction, and the battery had double locks, making it notoriously difficult to remove quickly.

Yet, this tall young man had plucked it off with a casual wave, his technique so practiced it seemed he’d done it countless times. How?

The female reporter hesitated, wondering if only assembly line workers or specialized bodyguards from Zhongnanhai possessed such skills in dismantling professional equipment. Clearly, this man wasn't a Japanese factory worker who built the camera. Did he have a special forces background?

What she didn't know was that Wang Zhuo had merely glanced at the mechanism with his perspective ability, instantly grasping the camera’s entire structure. Forget removing a battery; given the right tools and three minutes, he could reduce the entire machine to its fundamental components.

“I know you have a spare battery,” Wang Zhuo said, tossing the battery lightly in his hand. “But I advise you not to use it. The result will be the same.”

With that, he turned and addressed the Chief Inspector who had approached him, clearly wary of him erupting into violence again. “Mind if I make a call?”

“Can we do that in the car first?” the Inspector frowned slightly. Logically, the call should be permitted; who knew who this man’s connections were? Nowadays, society ran on favors—better to avoid complication. However, with so many onlookers, letting the subject make a public call could easily lead to unforeseen issues.

“That works,” Wang Zhuo conceded. “But I drove myself here, so I won’t be riding in your patrol car.”

“Hand over the keys, and I’ll drive it for you,” a pale, bespectacled police inspector said, extending his hand coldly. He had long been annoyed by Wang Zhuo’s flippant attitude but hadn't dared to act due to the crowd.

Wang Zhuo glanced at him, chuckled, and placed the electronic key fob in his palm, looking up at the inspector. “It’s a Lotus. Electronically controlled. Do you know how to drive that?”

The inspector’s outstretched hand froze awkwardly in mid-air. He could drive manual or automatic cars, but what the heck was 'electronically controlled'? He’d never played with one!