護花近衛 - 第3961章 搜魂術 - 翰墨軒

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