Chapter 1

After my dad was poisoned to death, I called the police and had Chris, the caregiver who'd been attending to him, arrested.

But my wife Lester insisted that Chris was innocent.

She defended him as his lawyer for six years.

Every time, Chris would grab my hand with fake sincerity:

"Mr. Steve, your wife is such a good person. She believes in me. I really didn't harm your father!"

Finally, she won the case for Chris. When she came home, she said to me:

"It's all over now. Don't let hatred blind you. Chris raised me. He's not a bad person."

I smiled and poured her a glass of wine, clinking glasses with her.

That very night, I tied Chris up and forced the same poison down his throat on camera.

I looked at my watch and calmly counted down:

"Lester, you have sixty minutes. Bring the antidote and my father's real will, or else..."

Chris was foaming at the mouth, convulsing painfully on the floor. The camera gave him a close-up:

"You'll be attending two funerals!"

The live stream link spread through anonymous channels. In less than ten minutes, the viewer count broke through a million.

On camera, Chris was tied tightly to a chair, foam hanging from the corners of his mouth, his body convulsing violently. And I stood behind him, expressionless, holding a timer.

Everyone watching held their breath.

The most anxious among them was undoubtedly the star lawyer Lester.

"Steve! Your dad's death really has nothing to do with Chris! I've been investigating for six years!"

She shouted at me shrilly through the video connection, her face displayed in split-screen.

I looked at her delicate face twisted with anger and terror on the big screen, my lips curling with mockery. "Is that so? Then where's the real will you found, the one my dad wrote in his own hand?"

The live stream chat exploded instantly:

[Is this guy insane? Six years of litigation, the court already ruled, and he still won't accept it?]

[Paranoid personality disorder, right? He won't be satisfied unless he can call the caregiver a murderer?]

[His wife is Lester! A legal legend! She turned down all those million-dollar cases to defend this caregiver for six years pro bono. Doesn't that loyalty prove something?]

Watching public opinion overwhelmingly support her, Lester's expression calmed slightly.

She straightened her back, speaking with more confidence: "Steve! The facts are right there. The evidence is solid. I don't know what 'real will' you're talking about."

"What you're doing now already constitutes kidnapping and intentional harm! Release Chris immediately. For the sake of our marriage, I'll do my best to defend you!"

I ignored her.

I picked up a hammer from the toolbox and grabbed Chris's desperately struggling left hand.

"Crack!"

The sound of shattering bones transmitted clearly across the internet through the microphone.

Chris's scream burst through the rag in his mouth, shrill and inhuman.

Lester's expression froze instantly.

I held up the deformed hand to the camera for display. "Do you think I'm playing around?"

Lester stared at the screen, her face deathly pale. "You... you maniac!"

I casually tossed aside the hammer and picked up a white cloth, methodically wiping the blood spatters from my hands.

"That was just the first one." I held up one finger.

"Lester, six years of litigation, six instances of perjury—you also have six chances. Make public the real will you've been hiding for six years. Each time, I'm giving you ten minutes."

[He's seriously unhinged! How can she hand over something that doesn't exist?]

[Stop trying to manipulate public opinion! We netizens can judge for ourselves. We don't just support whoever looks more pitiful!]

[Besides, your dad was so old. Isn't it possible he died of natural causes? Chris is the real victim who's been wrongly accused for six years!]

I watched the rapidly scrolling comments.

The vast majority were cursing me for being unreasonable, for refusing to accept reality.

[I bet he's just fighting over the inheritance. Showed his true colors as soon as his dad died!]

[What are the police doing? Hurry up and track him down! Any later and that poor caregiver will be tortured to death by this lunatic!]

The police also sent an official warning: [We've locked onto your location. Stop this criminal behavior immediately and surrender!]

I just sneered.

I'd already hired a top hacker to hide my IP address.

Sure enough, time passed minute by minute, and the police made no progress.

The netizens were more anxious than anyone, crashing the police department's official account backend.

Finally, the police had to issue an announcement admitting they couldn't pinpoint my exact location and were urgently mobilizing technical experts.

I glanced at the timer.

I picked up a pair of pliers, aiming at Chris's other undamaged hand. "Time's almost up, dear."

"Wait!" Lester finally broke down, her face pale. "I'll hand it over! I'll hand it over!"