Chapter 74: Forced Confession (Part 1)

At first, Yan Dong mustered the courage to meet Lin Fan’s gaze, but after only a few seconds, he faltered. His eyes darted evasively, and with a hint of panic, he asked, “Why are you here? What exactly do you want?” In his mind, Lin Fan must have been cornered by the police, driven to desperation, and had now captured him in a final act of mutual destruction—a dying man dragging him down as well.

“Why am I here? Don’t you know, Officer Yan? I owe my presence here entirely to you. I have nothing left to lose. If I’m going down, I might as well take someone with me,” Lin Fan replied, his tone careless.

Lin Fan’s words struck a chord with Yan Dong’s suspicions, leaving him utterly shaken. As a police officer, Yan Dong knew that some murderers felt remorse at the end and went quietly, but many more became deranged before their execution, lashing out at society—especially at those they despised. Since they were doomed anyway, they might as well drag someone down with them. In Yan Dong’s eyes, Lin Fan was clearly the latter, and his chosen scapegoat was the one who had sent him to the police station: himself.

“No, no, listen, if you just let me go, I promise nothing will happen to you,” Yan Dong stammered, shrinking back as Lin Fan slowly approached, Mo Fei at his side playing with a throwing knife. But there was nowhere left to retreat—behind Yan Dong was a wall, and he was no turtle that could hide in a shell.

“That line might fool a three-year-old,” Lin Fan said, rolling up his trouser leg as he crouched down and slapped Yan Dong’s face hard.

Indeed, only a fool would believe such words. “What will it take for you to let me go?” Yan Dong asked, desperation for survival overcoming his knowledge that Lin Fan was unlikely to release him.

“I imagine Officer Yan knows very well why I brought you here,” Lin Fan said with a faint, cold smile.

“No... I don’t know,” Yan Dong replied in terror. “I’m just a policeman—I really don’t know anything.”

Lin Fan frowned slightly. “You don’t know? Are you insulting my intelligence? Why were you in the suburbs, appearing just at the right time to block my way? As for the rest, I don’t think I need to spell it all out.”

“Boss, this guy’s got a stubborn mouth. Let me handle him—I’ll send him straight to the Eunuch House and cut him up myself. I don’t believe he won’t talk then,” Mo Fei snarled, flashing a menacing look at Yan Dong as he played with the throwing knife in the air.

Everyone knew what the Eunuch House was—a place for castrating men into eunuchs. At Mo Fei’s words and the sight of the blade, Yan Dong began to tremble uncontrollably, images flashing through his mind of himself lying helpless on the castration table. In today’s world, what was left to live for if a man lost that part of himself?

With Lin Fan, there was at least some familiarity, which dulled his terror slightly, but with Mo Fei, there was only pure fear.

As the saying goes, the unknown is always most terrifying. Seeing Lin Fan turn to leave, clearly intending to hand him over to Mo Fei, Yan Dong panicked and cried out, “If I tell you, will you let me go? And you absolutely must not reveal that it was me who told you!”

At this point, Yan Dong knew he could no longer bluff his way through. Inwardly, he cursed Wei Liang a thousand times—if not for Wei Liang’s threats, he would never have gotten involved with Lin Fan. Now, with things coming to this, nothing mattered anymore but saving his own skin.

Hearing Yan Dong still trying to bargain, Lin Fan’s eyes flashed with murderous intent. He spun around abruptly, seized Yan Dong by the throat, and slammed him against the wall.

Yan Dong suddenly felt an iron grip clamping down on his neck. At first it was just constricting, but soon an inexplicable pressure grew—one from the tightening hand, the other from Lin Fan’s rising aura.

Realizing Lin Fan meant to kill him, Yan Dong began to struggle. But he was already bound by Mo Fei, and against overwhelming strength, resistance was futile. His breath grew labored, his mind went blank, and he could only hear the cracking of his own windpipe. He desperately wanted to reveal who was behind all this, believing Lin Fan truly would kill him—but Lin Fan gave him no chance to speak.

Slowly, Yan Dong felt himself suffocating, the air vanishing from his lungs. Despair washed over him. He regretted trying to bargain—he should have just named the mastermind and at least had a chance to live. Now, he realized he was already stepping through death’s gate.

Just as Yan Dong thought death was imminent, the grip on his neck suddenly loosened. Fresh air flooded into his lungs, and he collapsed to the ground, gulping it down in great, shuddering breaths. He knew he was still alive. In that fleeting moment between life and death, he understood: nothing is more important than staying alive—everything else is worthless.

What Yan Dong felt was precisely what Lin Fan intended. Lin Fan hadn’t tightened his grip all at once, but gradually, forcing Yan Dong to savor the agony of dying without dying, dangling on the edge of oblivion. It was a psychological assault, shattering his defenses completely.

Lin Fan flexed his wrist, and Yan Dong shuddered in terror. Seeing the fear and defeat in his eyes, Lin Fan nodded in satisfaction—the effect he wanted had been achieved.

Terrified that Lin Fan would strike again, Yan Dong blurted out, “I’ll tell you! It was Wei Liang! Wei Liang sent me to stop you!”

Wei Liang? Lin Fan murmured the name to himself.

“Yes, him! He said the heir of the Haitan Group in SH City wouldn’t let you go, so he had people shadowing the heir’s men. Not long after, he notified me—said he’d found you and told me to play the mantis stalking the cicada, waiting to swoop after. If Jin Baiwan’s men crippled you, I was to stay hidden. If they didn’t, I was to arrest you for gang brawling. I’ve told you everything, please let me go!” Yan Dong rattled off everything, shifting all blame onto Wei Liang.

The truth was, Yan Dong had always wanted to take Lin Fan down, so when Wei Liang made the suggestion, he’d seized the chance eagerly. Such an opportunity—how could he let it slip by?

A perfect case of the mantis stalking the cicada, only to be caught by the oriole. Lin Fan had always had a strong impression of Wei Liang—especially after Wei Liang had raped Hu Zifeng’s fiancée. Lin Fan had already resolved to kill him at the first opportunity, but he hadn’t expected Wei Liang to strike first.

“Is that so? You follow his orders so faithfully—does he have more sway over you than your own father?” Lin Fan could tell Yan Dong was trying to push all responsibility onto Wei Liang. If Yan Dong claimed he had no intention to harm him, Lin Fan would never believe it.

“He threatened me,” Yan Dong said, glancing up at Lin Fan, then quickly lowering his head. Lin Fan’s gaze was like a blade, ready to pierce his heart at any moment.

“Threatened you?” Lin Fan asked, intrigued.

“He said if I didn’t do as he said, he’d release a video of me raping someone,” Yan Dong replied, answering every question, knowing that a single misstep could mean his life.

“Oh? He said he had a recording, and you believed him?” Lin Fan asked coolly. “So, my jailbreak—that was his idea too, wasn’t it?”

“At first I didn’t believe him, but then he sent me a disc. And yes, my breaking you out was his idea too. He said you were a murderer…” Even though Yan Dong was being as careful as possible, he slipped up.

He’d accused Lin Fan of murder. Before he could finish, Lin Fan kicked him hard in the right shoulder, sending him curling into a ball on the ground. The force of the blow exposed the pale bone beneath his skin, blood slowly pooling on the floor.

Sweat poured down Yan Dong’s face, but he dared not cry out. He was afraid—afraid Lin Fan would kill him before he could even scream. Now he clung to every shred of hope for survival, even if it meant living in abject humiliation.

“If you want to live, you’d better think carefully about your answers,” Lin Fan said harshly.

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