This was a small room within the house, and Fan Shuhua had made no attempt to conceal it.
There was a row of bookshelves holding some books, and another row of low white wooden shelves, somewhat resembling display racks in a bookstore. Each compartment had a person's name pasted on it and contained a black softcover notebook. Some notebooks appeared very old, while others looked almost new. The stark contrast between black and white made them quite eye-catching.
You Mingxu didn't recognize the names in the first few compartments, but soon came across familiar ones:
Gu Tiancheng, Xiang Rong, Chen Zhaoci, Li Mingdi, Li Biran, Mingtao...
Each person had one black softcover notebook.
You Mingxu and Yin Feng each picked up one to examine.
They were filled with handwritten characters. Yin Feng said, "This is Fan Shuhua's handwriting." You Mingxu was flipping through Gu Tiancheng's notebook and was secretly startled. It contained extremely detailed records of Gu Tiancheng's life—starting from his birth date, birthplace, parental information, to family history of genetic diseases and criminal records.
It also included Gu Tiancheng's growth experiences from childhood to adulthood: academic performance, teacher evaluations, honors received, and punishments. There were also records of several violent fights and serious mistakes.
After this, Fan Shuhua had written several full pages of personality characteristics and psychological analysis conclusions.
Following that were detailed records of each time Gu Tiancheng committed a crime. This included how he selected targets, stalked them, crime scene characteristics, murder methods, and body disposal. There were also Fan Shuhua's analyses of the effectiveness of each case and how well it matched Gu Tiancheng's psychological needs... The language was remarkably calm and objective, as if describing not murders but observational results.
After flipping through several notebooks, You Mingxu felt a chill run down her spine.
So every Punisher was merely a written notebook.
Yin Feng's expression grew increasingly somber.
He said, "Actually, there was never any battle between good and evil. When has human nature ever been something that could be summarized in a few sentences or a single concept? The truth about the Punisher Organization is that its founder has long been distorted beyond recognition. Waving the banner of seeking truth and discerning truth, she made herself believe it, and made those desperate followers believe it too. In reality, it was just the last straw they could grasp. But that straw was false too. The fundamental problem lies in her heart, and in theirs.
She's no different from Gu Tiancheng, Mingtao, Chen Zhaoci... or any psychopath we've encountered. By controlling them to commit crimes and murders, she gained intense satisfaction. These notebooks are the evidence.
But she was too intelligent, too knowledgeable, too well-versed in criminal psychology. She couldn't bear to see herself as one of them, so she erected the banner 'All good is dead, all evil prevails' to convince herself that she wasn't a pathological criminal but a savior. She lived in a bubble—a brightly colored dark lie."
You Mingxu smiled faintly and said, "According to what you're saying, the Punisher Organization is actually nothing at all. Yet it still gave us quite the trouble."
Yin Feng also smiled: "That's the true face of all evil. It appears fierce and bloody, but pierce through that surface, and you'll find cowardly and humble souls residing within."
His fingers continued sliding along the wooden shelf. The second-to-last compartment was empty, with traces where a name tag had been torn off. The two exchanged a glance.
One notebook was missing.The final slot didn't contain a name, but a location—"Television Station."
Yin Feng retrieved this notebook, and You Mingxu examined it with him. Inside was recorded an extremely detailed criminal plan. Placed in this position meant it represented Fan Shuhua and the Punishers' ultimate criminal attempt.
Both looked up and gazed out the window in a certain direction.
Everything concerning the Punishers would finally come to an end tonight.
——
Long before Yin Feng became the scapegoat, he had already concluded that the ultimate punishment plan was imminent.
After intercepting the phone records between Fan Shuhua and Yin Chen, Yin Feng had initially grasped their plan.
Thus, tonight, alongside the operation to apprehend Fan Shuhua, a comprehensive crackdown on the "Television Station" was also launched.
Obtaining that black softcover notebook was like adding wings to a tiger for the police.
The Xiangcheng Television Station, located by the Xiang River, was an imposing skyscraper gleaming with lights in the night.
At that moment, the entrance of the building was bustling with a steady stream of people.
Two hundred audience members were entering the building to attend the recording of a variety show. Holding tickets, they lined up for security checks, chatting and laughing, creating a lively and relaxed atmosphere.
Around the building, numerous vehicles were parked in complete silence.
The audience had mostly arrived. Several security guards came to relieve the shift at the security checkpoint.
Among them, two relieved guards walked directly into the building. They kept their eyes forward, seemingly detached from the surrounding commotion and drawing no attention.
The two took the elevator to the 50th floor, where the studio for tonight's recording was located.
Audience members poured out of the elevator and surged toward the studio. The two guards headed to a side staircase, pulled open the fire door, and slipped inside.
Tonight, their assigned post was here.
Unexpectedly, as soon as the fire door closed behind them, a group of people suddenly emerged from the dim and silent stairwell above and below. Startled, the two turned to flee, but the fire door seemed welded shut and wouldn't budge.
In the blink of an eye, the group rushed at them, their movements rough and fierce. The two guards were like shrimp tossed into a fish trap, flailing helplessly. Soon, their hands, legs, backs, and necks were all restrained, leaving them immobile. A cold voice whispered in their ears, "You're under arrest!"
Simultaneously.
First-floor lobby.
An ascending elevator.
The pedestrian corridor outside the 50th-floor studio.
The audience chatted eagerly, brimming with excitement. Yet, among the crowd, there were always one or two individuals with lean, sturdy builds, dressed in plain and inconspicuous clothing, wearing baseball caps, not speaking to anyone, exuding a stern and cold aura.
And the surrounding audience seemed completely unaware of them.
At one point, one of these individuals might have sensed an odd feeling of danger and slowly looked up. But all they saw were men and women of various heights and builds, with nothing out of the ordinary.
So they lowered their heads again.
Multiple locations, different groups, simultaneous action!
The officers moved imperceptibly close to their targets, isolating them from the ordinary audience. In one elevator, there wasn't a single ordinary audience member. Someone coughed lightly, and the target abruptly looked up—
Too late!
The police officers pounced like a pack of tigers, pinning the person to the ground within seconds.
"You're under arrest!"
Backstage in the studio, control room.
The middle-aged director sat behind the broadcast screen, smoking, his expression grim. The ashtray in front of him was already full.The young female assistant director stood behind him, her gaze fixed intently on the images transmitted from each camera.
Suddenly, the control room door swung open, and two unfamiliar men stepped inside, raising the guns in their hands.
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