Chapter 3961 — Soul-Searching Art

As long as the two guards did not testify against Wei Zhao, Ma Jian would have no evidence whatsoever in hand, and without it he could not carry out Xu Lingchong's bidding—could not touch a single hair on Wei Zhao's head!

"Honored Enforcement Envoy, if there's nothing else, I'll be on my way now?" Wei Zhao patted his backside and rose to his feet with an air of utter nonchalance.

"Hold on. When did this Enforcement Envoy ever say you could leave? Or do you think the Law Enforcement Hall is a place you can enter and exit as you please?" Ma Jian said, his face unfriendly.

Wei Zhao glanced at him and said with a half-smile: "Then what do you want? If I heard correctly, you don't actually have any evidence at all. You're simply ignoring the rules of the Law Enforcement Hall to settle a personal grudge for Xu Lingchong—are you sure that's appropriate?"

Ma Jian was taken aback, then flew into a rage born of embarrassment, his expression dark as water.

Wei Zhao had hit the nail squarely on the head. Though Ma Jian counted himself among Xu Lingchong's faction, strictly speaking the Law Enforcement Hall was his true foundation. If he broke its rules and thereby incurred the wrath of Hall Master Gongyang Jun, Xu Lingchong alone could not protect him—and when that time came, even Xu Yuanzheng's intercession would earn no concessions from Gongyang Jun.

"Hmph. Ignorance truly breeds recklessness. You think that because those two ant-like pieces of trash of guards won't step forward to testify against you, you can slip past this calamity? Utterly wishful thinking!" Ma Jian snorted coldly, his expression ugly.

To him, Wei Zhao's manner was nothing but the suicidal provocation of a man who knew neither heaven nor earth. Even without Xu Lingchong's prior instructions, if only to vent the pent-up fury in his chest, he would never let Wei Zhao off so easily today.

Seeing Ma Jian's expression—so ferocious it verged on madness—Wei Zhao felt a faint jolt in his heart. As the saying goes, the King of Hell is easy to meet, but the little devils are hard to deal with. If it were Gongyang Jun, the Hall Master himself, seated across from him, such a great man would surely be even thornier and harder to handle, yet at least things would not twist and turn so unpredictably.

Ma Jian was nothing but a petty figure, yet as the specially assigned Enforcement Envoy, if he set his mind on destroying Wei Zhao—even at the risk of gambling everything—Wei Zhao truly had few options.

After all, the Law Enforcement Hall always had top-tier experts on guard. He could not afford to make a scene here; his entire strength was reduced to mere ornament, no different from an ordinary man's. In this place, he was absolutely the weaker party.

"That's right—those two pieces of trash of guards did indeed try to clear you. But unfortunately, this Enforcement Envoy can now tell you plainly: it's all useless! Their claims that Meng Jueming coerced you are merely their subjective speculation, utterly unworthy of belief. But they did confirm at least one thing—before the mine collapse, you really were digging everywhere at random. My earlier deduction therefore still very likely holds." Here Ma Jian licked his lips with a sinister air: "So, I've decided to give you a grand gift—let you properly experience the Law Enforcement Hall's Soul-Searching Art!"

Soul-Searching Art! Wei Zhao was instantly seized with dread. Long ago he had discussed it with his miserable senior brothers and the like: the Soul-Searching Art was one of the Law Enforcement Hall's few trump techniques. No matter how glib a suspect might be, before this divine skill that could directly read the memories of the consciousness, nothing could remain hidden.

In the eyes of the Law Enforcement Hall, there were no secrets—that saying arose from precisely this.

For Wei Zhao, burdened as he was with all manner of hidden trump cards, the Soul-Searching Art was simply the equivalent of a death warrant. Once these secrets became known, the days to come would bring enormous trouble.

An innocent man bears no crime; it is the jade he harbors that is his guilt. Wei Zhao's current strength was still far from enough to protect himself on Cloud Terrace Island. Once his secret trump cards—the jade pendant's space among them—were exposed, whether he could even keep his life would become truly uncertain.

"You'd better thank me well. Only those few special envoys of the Law Enforcement Hall can perform the Soul-Searching Art. An Enforcement Envoy like me gets only one chance to apply per year—ordinary suspects never receive such high-grade treatment. So savor this rare experience, because perhaps soon after, you'll be sent to the executioner's block." Ma Jian cackled coldly.

Even for professionals, performing the Soul-Searching Art exacted an enormous price, which was why this exceedingly practical divine skill was never casually abused under normal circumstances. The Law Enforcement Hall maintained strict limits on it: an ordinary Enforcement Envoy of Ma Jian's rank could apply at most once a year, with no further chances afterward.

This was already the most core power Ma Jian held in his grasp, something he ordinarily could not bear to part with. But now, to deal with Wei Zhao, he was staking everything.

Wei Zhao looked at him coldly: "You should know that a mere newcomer like me couldn't possibly have caused a mine collapse. Meng Jueming's death within it was purely an accident. Using this one chance at the Soul-Searching Art on me is a guaranteed waste—are you sure it's necessary?"

"Of course it is!" Ma Jian smiled a vicious, ill-omened grin: "From the look of you, you already seem to know what the Soul-Searching Art is for. But there's one thing you don't seem to have grasped: while the Soul-Searching Art probes the memories of the consciousness, it also leaves behind aftereffects that cannot be cured. Of suspects who have undergone it in the past, sixty percent became imbeciles, and the remaining forty percent were crippled for life. Which kind do you suppose you'll be?"

To harm others without benefiting himself—that was Ma Jian's intent. He cared nothing for whether Wei Zhao was the culprit who had caused the mine collapse and buried Meng Jueming. The only thing to be done now was to carry out Xu Lingchong's orders.

Once Wei Zhao underwent the Soul-Searching Art, no matter what conclusion the probe ultimately produced, Wei Zhao would end up either an imbecile or a cripple—either way, enough to answer to Xu Lingchong.

What a infuriating piece of human scum! Wei Zhao's eyes turned cold and stern; he quietly clenched his fists. Matters had come to this, and he had no other choice. If the man insisted on forcing the issue, then even if it meant making a scene here in the Law Enforcement Hall, that would still be better than having the Soul-Searching Art drag out all his secret trump cards.

"Just you wait right there for this Enforcement Envoy. I'm going to have a word with my superiors—I won't keep you long. Wahahaha!" Ma Jian laughed triumphantly and turned to head for the door.

But before he reached the doorway, Wei Zhao's figure had already flashed into being, blocking his path, his face colder than ever before: "Since you insist on this, there's no need for me to keep enduring in silence."

When forbearance has reached its limit, there is no need to forbear further. Though striking a blow in a place like the Law Enforcement Hall looked on every count like the suicidal folly of a madman courting self-destruction, at a moment like this there was no time to worry about such things. R1152