The message he had sent to that thug was still at the top of the screen:
[Where are you? Is it done properly?]
On the other end, there was complete silence—no read receipt, nothing.
Before he could even see who was coming, a coarse burlap sack was thrown over his head, instantly cutting off all light.
Dust and the smell of mildew filled his nostrils. Instinctively, he reached up to pull at the sack, but a brutal force clamped down on his wrist. Almost immediately, a barrage of fists rained down on his back.
“Ugh!”
Gu Zhuoxiao let out a muffled grunt as his body staggered uncontrollably forward, colliding with the cold wall with a dull thud.
Each blow was vicious, landing with precision on the most painful spots, making every muscle in his body spasm.
“Who—?!” Gu Zhuoxiao’s voice was hoarse from the pain.
He struggled violently, trying to remove the sack.
But the other person moved fast and hard, giving him no chance to breathe. “Do you know who I am? Let go of me!”
The only response was a more relentless storm of fists and kicks.
Lin Zhao’s eyes were as cold as ice, her mouth a thin line. Compared to earlier, when she dealt with that thug, her strikes were heavier now. Sweat beaded at her temples and ran down her face, dripping into her collar.
Her arms trembled slightly from exertion, but her gaze was terrifyingly calm. Every punch, every kick avoided vital areas; she targeted only the spots that would inflict intense pain without causing permanent damage.
She didn’t want Gu Zhuoxiao dead—she wanted him to feel pain, to remember the helplessness of being unable to resist, to know that not everyone could be controlled at his whim.
“Bang—” Another heavy punch landed squarely on Gu Zhuoxiao’s back. Pain made his vision darken; his body slumped, almost collapsing to the ground.
He could feel the force growing with each strike. Each hit felt like it could shatter his bones. The air in the sack grew thinner; suffocation and pain mingled, making his consciousness blur.
“Stop! Stop it!”
Gu Zhuoxiao realized this person truly intended to hurt him. “What do you want? Money? I’ll give you! Anything you want! Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Just let me go!”
Lin Zhao heard this and paused mid-strike.
She stopped, looking down at the crumpled figure. He trembled violently from the pain.
She let out a light, cold laugh, echoing through the empty alley, sending shivers down the spine.
Money?
Ridiculous.
To this rich young master, money could solve all unnecessary troubles, let him dodge attacks, even buy other people’s lives.
To her, money was nothing more than worthless paper.
Lin Zhao was an extreme egoist.
If someone annoyed her, she could throw her own life away.
She raised her foot and delivered a vicious kick to Gu Zhuoxiao’s knee.
A sharp crack rang out, accompanied by his heart-wrenching scream. He fell heavily to the ground, his vision blackening, completely unconscious.
Only then did Lin Zhao stop.
She breathed heavily, looking down at Gu Zhuoxiao lying motionless. After a few seconds of silence, she bent down and yanked the sack off his head.
His face appeared, disheveled hair, a few purple bruises across his handsome features, now twisted in pain. His eyes were unfocused, his breathing weak, utterly humiliated.
Lin Zhao crouched, reaching out a finger to check his breath.
Warm air brushed her fingertips. Weak, but steady.
Not dead.
She exhaled slightly, her tense heart relaxing a little.
Though she had struck brutally, she had controlled the limits—she wasn’t foolish enough to put herself in danger for this scum.
She stood up, eyes falling on the phone Gu Zhuoxiao had dropped.
The screen was completely dark, cracks spreading like a spiderweb. She bent down to pick it up. A glance at the open school uniform pocket revealed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
She took out the cigarettes and lighter.
Picking one cigarette, she placed it in her mouth and lit it with the lighter.
The flame flared, illuminating the cold glint in her eyes.
She inhaled, but didn’t swallow, letting the smoke swirl inside her mouth before exhaling slowly.
The white smoke blurred her features, giving her a slightly desolate appearance.
She needed to calm down.
The beating had vented her anger, but now, in the cold light of reason, she realized how impulsive she had been.
Her head throbbed slightly. She rubbed her temples, picked up Gu Zhuoxiao’s phone, and turned on the screen. He hadn’t locked it. She immediately dialed the police.