Chapter 3

The rain in Manhattan is rarely kind, especially in the slums of the 11th District. This kind of overcast drizzle, mixed with factory waste and urban sewage, creates an acidic stench—a slow-acting poison that perpetually corrodes this wasteland forgotten by civilization.

"This is the end for that so-called 'Guardian'." With a dull thud, I was discarded like a piece of trash onto the hard, cold asphalt from a modified black SUV.

The tires rolled over the muddy puddles, spraying sludge across my dress trousers. I was unable to move. The neurotoxin known as "The Wither" acted like thousands of razor blades slicing between my spinal cord and cerebral cortex; my central nervous system was utterly paralyzed. To me, this flesh-and-blood body was now nothing more than a piece of precision heavy machinery that had lost its power source.

The car window lowered slowly, revealing Elena’s cold, exquisite profile. She didn’t even glance down at me. The way she looked at me suggested that she hadn't discarded a husband who had accompanied her for three years and kept the city’s underworld and corporate world under his thumb—but rather, a broken cleaning robot.

"Don't waste any more time, Marcus." Her voice was airy, gratingly sharp against the chaotic sound of the downpour. "He has no commercial value left, and I’ve already obtained the certificate of contract termination. At tomorrow morning’s financial briefing, I need to ensure the media sees only you, me, and the grand blueprint of the Susanna family. He can rot in whatever gutter he falls into, as long as he doesn't appear in tomorrow's camera frames."

Marcus let out a wild, arrogant laugh from inside the luxury vehicle. He lit a cigar, the flare of the lighter flashing in the haze. "Don't worry, baby. A guy like him won't survive tonight’s low temperatures. The homeless around here will make sure he disappears for good."

The window rolled up, and the engine roared. The streamlined luxury car shot away like a meteor piercing the night sky, leaving nothing behind but splashes of stagnant water that ruthlessly beat against my face.

The rain grew fiercer. The freezing water poured into my collar, trickling down the back of my neck. I was surrounded by a dim, narrow alleyway, the walls covered in chaotic graffiti; in the distance, the buzzing of old fluorescent tubes crackled. I lay sprawled beside a trash can, and yet, amidst this extreme cold, I felt an unprecedented sense of homecoming.

The shackles on my senses were gradually unraveling.

Though my body remained motionless, deep within my brain, the algorithm engine that belonged to the "Supreme Commander of the North" was running a frantic self-diagnostic. When the neurotoxin scanned my body structure, it triggered the micro-sized "Doomsday Fuse" hidden deep within my heart. It was an emergency mechanism I had pre-installed three years ago when I first married into the family, designed to prevent betrayal—when my physiological functions dropped to 3% due to illegal harm from my employers, the [Contract Liquidation Protocol] would automatically lift its seal.

"Detected: Contract damage threshold reached 98%."

"Identified: Illegal behavior by employer. Murderous intent confirmed as Level 1 breach of contract."

"Authority Directive: [Liquidation] module entering pre-loading state."

The cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind. I opened my eyes slowly, a cold, ghostly glint flickering in the depths of my pupils. Elena thought she had discarded a cripple, never realizing that she had cast aside the most terrifying deterrent in the entire North.

On a dilapidated, filthy wall ahead, there was a neglected public screen. Usually, it only played low-level, brainwashing shopping advertisements. At this moment, the screen flickered violently, its colors twisting and warping into lines of red characters that could only be deciphered by specific encryption:

[Contract confirmed destroyed. Liquidation protocol authorized: Initiated.]

[Target Object: Susanna Family (Elena Susanna)]

[Liquidation Level: S-Class / Global Asset Freeze / Military Security Guarantee Withdrawn]

[Directive: 'Zero-Hour Ritual' countdown started.]

I was a ghost reawakening in the rain. With that flash of red text, the mobile networks, surveillance signals, and even the drone patrol grids hidden in the shadows within a five-kilometer radius were taken over by an intangible, divine force.

I could feel it—the military satellites orbiting above this city were slowly adjusting their trajectories, focusing those cold electronic eyes on the Susanna Center tower two kilometers away.

Elena was planning to hold her financial briefing tomorrow to announce her prosperity and glory.

She would get her wish. She would hold that briefing with unprecedented grandeur, and then, before the eyes of the entire world, she would witness everything turn to ash.

I smiled softly into the cold, dirty, rainy alley. The bitter taste of the toxin still lingered on my tongue, but the heat within me was re-surging. That long-lost thrill of controlling the fate of the world surged in the darkness like molten lava.

Goodbye, my three years of meaningless life as a live-in son-in-law.

From this moment on, every inch of this city will tremble beneath my feet.