The moment the signal for the second victim was connected in Chapter 340, Xia Zhining and everyone in the Zhoucheng police command vehicle held their breath.
The images captured by the miniature camera were shaky and blurry, but shocking enough.
The interior of the villa was dimly lit, with all the curtains tightly drawn, blocking out the last ray of sunlight from the outside world.
Mo Xiaohua slumped on the living room carpet, her ankles clad in gleaming metal chains, securing her to the heavy furniture legs.
However, what sent a chill down Xia Zhining's spine was the appearance of a third person in the corner of the scene!
It was a woman curled up on the ground, her hair disheveled like straw, her face deathly pale as if she had never seen the sun.
She was tied up and her mouth was stuffed with a rag.
What's most alarming is that her eyes were tightly wrapped in thick white bandages.
The edges of the bandage even showed some dark color seeping through.
The woman was clearly blind, lying silently on the cold floor like an abandoned, worn-out object.
Mo Xiaohua's husband, Zhang Yucheng, a man holding a homemade crossbow, stood between the two women.
His face held only a cold, obsessive, and sinister look.
Zhang Yucheng first shoved a gleaming dagger into Mo Xiaohua's trembling hand without any room for doubt.
“Go,” he said, his voice like a viper’s hiss, “stab her. Not too deep, just enough to draw blood.”
Zhang Yucheng looked at Mo Xiaohua's face, which turned deathly pale, and a sinister, twisted smile appeared on his lips: "In this way, you also have someone's blood on your hands, and we are accomplices."
"Look, isn't it great?"
"We each have our own secrets, and neither of us dares to reveal them to the outside world."
As he spoke, Zhang Yucheng slowly raised the exquisite crossbow in his hand.
The cold tip of the crossbow bolt was steadily aimed at Mo Xiaohua's exposed carotid artery.
The air seemed to freeze.
On the screen, Mo Xiaohua's hand holding the knife trembled like a leaf, and tears mixed with cold sweat streamed down her face.
As if seeing the true face of the person beside her for the first time, her voice was hoarse: "Isn't it enough that you killed someone yourself... do you have to force me to be the murderer?!"
"Stop talking nonsense!" Zhang Yucheng's patience ran out.
"If you hadn't been so foolish as to post that video, none of this would have happened! You forced me to do this!"
"I'm afraid your precious fish will die!" Mo Xiaohua felt a surge of absurd anger amidst her fear.
"How was I supposed to know you'd throw human teeth into the fish tank! Water flowers with blood! You...you're completely insane!"
"A madman?" Zhang Yucheng grinned, a cruel smugness in his smile. "Don't you always brag about how your husband is an artist collector, and how proud you are of yourself in front of others?"
He kicked the woman on the ground whose eyes were covered by bandages: "If I hadn't used their organs to make money, where do you think you got this outfit, this villa, all those expensive paints and art exhibition tickets?"
Do you know how expensive it is to be involved in art and collectibles?
He took a step closer, the arrowhead of his crossbow almost touching Mo Xiaohua's throat.
"Dealing with gallery owners, curators, and critics—it's all about making money!"
His tone suddenly turned cold, carrying the cruelty of an ultimatum: "Now, either you do it and shut this piece of trash on the ground up forever; or—"
Zhang Yucheng's cold gaze swept over Mo Xiaohua and the woman tied up on the ground.
"You two are doomed together."
"select."
Inside Xia Zhining and the Zhoucheng police command vehicle, the air seemed to freeze.
Everyone stared intently at the suffocating standoff on the screen.
Should they break in? Zhang Yucheng had two hostages, and a crossbow was pointed at Mo Xiaohua's vital points.
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