This was a small room in the house; Fan Shuhua had not attempted to conceal it.

There was a row of bookshelves with some books. There was also a row of white, low wooden shelves, somewhat resembling display racks in a bookstore. Each compartment had a name label attached to it and contained a black soft-cover notebook. Some notebooks looked very old, while others appeared almost new. The black and white contrast made them quite conspicuous.

You Mingxu didn’t recognize the names on the first few compartments, but soon she saw familiar ones:

Gu Tiancheng, Xiang Rong, Chen Zhaoci, Li Mingdi, Li Biran, Ming Tao…

One black soft-cover notebook for each person.

You Mingxu and Yin Feng each picked up a notebook to examine.

Inside were handwritten notes. Yin Feng said, “This is Fan Shuhua’s handwriting.” You Mingxu was looking through Gu Tiancheng’s notebook and was secretly shocked. It contained extremely detailed records of Gu Tiancheng’s life, beginning with his date and place of birth, information about his parents, and whether his family had any history of hereditary diseases or criminal records.

It also included Gu Tiancheng’s experiences growing up, his academic performance, evaluations from teachers, honors received, and punishments. There were also records of several violent fights and serious wrongdoings.

After this, Fan Shuhua had written several pages full of personality traits and psychological analysis conclusions.

Following that were detailed records of each of Gu Tiancheng’s crimes. These included how he selected his targets, tracked them, crime scene characteristics, methods of killing, and body disposal. Fan Shuhua had also analyzed the effectiveness of each case and how well it matched Gu Tiancheng’s psychological needs… The language was extremely calm and objective, as if she weren’t describing murders but recording observation results.

After flipping through several notebooks, You Mingxu felt a chill.

It turned out that each Punisher was nothing more than a written notebook.

Yin Feng’s expression grew increasingly cold.

He said, “There was never any real struggle between good and evil. When has human nature ever been something that could be summarized in a few words or a single concept? The truth about the Punisher organization is that its creator had long lost her true self. She raised the banner of seeking and discerning truth, believing it herself and making those desperate followers believe it too. In reality, it was just the last straw they could grasp. But that straw was also fake. The fundamental problem lay in her heart, and theirs.

She and Gu Tiancheng, Ming Tao, Chen Zhaoci… they were no different from any psychopath we’ve encountered. By controlling them to commit crimes and kill, she obtained intense satisfaction. These notebooks are the evidence.

But she was too clever, too knowledgeable, too understanding of criminal psychology. She couldn’t bear being the same as them, so she raised the banner of ‘all good is dead, all evil shall be done,’ making herself believe that she wasn’t a pathological criminal but a savior. She lived in a bubble, a brightly colored dark lie.”

You Mingxu smiled slightly and said, “According to what you’re saying, the Punisher organization isn’t anything special. Yet they’ve given us quite a hard time.”

Yin Feng also smiled: “This is the true face of all evil. It looks ferocious and bloody, but once you pierce that layer of skin, inside dwells a cowardly and humble soul.”

His finger continued to slide across the wooden shelf. The second-to-last compartment was empty; the spot where a name should have been showed signs of being torn off. The two exchanged a glance.

One notebook was missing.

And the last compartment was labeled not with a person’s name, but with a location—”TV Station.”

Yin Feng took down this notebook, and You Mingxu looked through it with him. Inside was a very detailed criminal plan. Placed in this position, it meant that this was Fan Shuhua and the Punishers’ ultimate criminal intent.

The two looked up, gazing out the window in a certain direction.

Everything related to the Punishers would finally come to an end tonight.

——

As early as when Yin Feng became the scapegoat, it was already determined that the ultimate punishment plan was imminent.

After intercepting the call records between Fan Shuhua and Yin Chen, Yin Feng had already gained a preliminary understanding of their plan.

So tonight, simultaneously with the arrest plan for Fan Shuhua, there was also a comprehensive operation at the “TV Station.”

And obtaining that black soft-cover notebook was an additional advantage for the police.

Xiangcheng TV Station was located by the Xiang River, a magnificent building with glittering lights at night.

At this moment, people were streaming in and out of the building entrance.

About 200 audience members were entering the building to attend the recording of a variety show. They held tickets, lined up for security checks, chatting and laughing, creating a lively and relaxed atmosphere.

Around the building, many cars were parked, all silent.

Most of the audience had arrived. Several security guards came to change shifts at the security checkpoint.

Two of the relieved guards walked straight toward the building. The two kept their eyes forward, seemingly disconnected from the bustling atmosphere around them, attracting no attention.

The two took the elevator up to the 50th floor. This was where tonight’s program would be recorded.

As the audience exited the elevator and surged into the studio, the two men walked toward a side stairwell, opened the fire door, and slipped inside.

Tonight, these two were stationed here.

Unexpectedly, as soon as the fire door closed behind them, people suddenly appeared from the dark, quiet stairwell above and below. The two were greatly surprised, turned to run, but the fire door seemed welded shut and wouldn’t budge.

In the blink of an eye, those people pounced on them, their movements rough and fierce. The two were like shrimp thrown into a fish trap, only able to struggle in place. Soon, their hands, legs, backs, and necks were all restrained, unable to move. Someone coldly said in their ear, “You’re under arrest!”

Simultaneously.

In the first-floor lobby.

In an ascending elevator.

In the walkway outside the 50th-floor studio.

The audience members were engaged in eager conversation, full of excitement. However, among the crowd, there were always one or two people—athletically built, dressed plainly, wearing baseball caps, not conversing with anyone, their entire demeanor cold.

The surrounding audience members seemed not to notice them at all.

For a moment, one of those individuals might have felt a strange sense of crisis and slowly raised his head. But he saw only men and women of various heights and builds around him, nothing unusual.

So he lowered his head again.

Several locations, different crowds, simultaneous action!

Those people had somehow moved next to their targets, isolating them far from the regular audience. There was even an entire elevator with not a single ordinary audience member. Someone gave a light cough, and the target suddenly looked up—

Too late!

The police officers, like a pack of fierce tigers, pounced, pinning the person to the ground in two seconds.

“You’re under arrest!”

In the backstage control room of the studio.

A middle-aged director sat behind the broadcast screens, smoking, his expression solemn. The ashtray in front of him was already full.

The young female assistant director stood behind him, her eyes fixed on the images coming from each camera.

Suddenly, the control room door was pushed open, and two unfamiliar men walked in, raising their guns in their hands.