Li Qinwu intended to have the bailiffs release Xiao Qiao'er and her family so he could escort them out alongside the staff—avoiding the inevitable slaughter by the bottom-nest rats.
But before he could even step forward to speak, a bailiff swung a stun baton straight at his head.
Li Qinwu stepped back, narrowly dodging. The next second, the bailiff raised the weapon again and barked coldly:
"Take one more step and you die."
The warning was absolute.
Li Qinwu's expression darkened. He understood immediately—no negotiation was possible. These people weren't enforcers of law; they were executioners maintaining order through fear.
He retreated, positioning himself near the staff area, waiting.
---
A few minutes later—
Click.
The elevator slowed.
A mechanical voice echoed through the chamber:
"The giant elevator is about to reach the lower level. Machine spirit stable. All personnel prepare to disembark. Praise the Emperor."
The doors opened.
And hell stared back.
Thousands of bottom-nest rats crowded outside, eyes gleaming with hunger, madness, and anticipation.
They whistled, cursed, laughed—some shouting openly that they would kill and eat the prisoners.
Inside, the prisoners broke down—crying, begging, trembling.
The bailiffs responded with violence, smashing them with stun batons, triggering spasms of pain. The rats outside roared with laughter.
Only the staff remained calm.
They walked out first, orderly and untouched, heading toward the safe zones. Not a single rat dared approach them.
Only after the staff had cleared the area did the bailiffs begin unlocking the prisoners.
One by one.
Each prisoner was shoved, shocked, beaten—and thrown out into the waiting chaos.
Bodies hit the ground. Some convulsed, unable to stand.
Joel's family was no exception.
They were shocked violently and collapsed, twitching.
---
The moment they were thrown out—
Li Qinwu moved.
He rushed forward, slapping Joel's father hard across the face.
"Wake up! Stand up! If you don't want to die, get up now!"
He slapped again—harder—then drove his fingernail into the philtrum.
The man jolted awake, gasping, eyes filled with shock.
Li Qinwu didn't explain.
He pointed sharply at Joel in the wheelchair.
"You push him. Stay behind me. Don't fall behind."
Then he moved to Joel's mother—same method, brutal and effective.
She woke screaming.
Li Qinwu shoved the younger brother into her arms.
"Stay close to me if you want to live!"
---
Then—
He drew his automatic weapon.
And opened fire.
DA-DA-DA-DA—
Thirty rounds emptied in seconds.
At point-blank range, the high-caliber rounds tore through bodies—each bullet punching through multiple targets.
Dozens dropped instantly.
Blood sprayed. Screams erupted.
The rats froze.
They had expected prey.
They met a butcher.
---
Li Qinwu didn't stop.
Reload.
Fire again.
Another wave of bodies fell.
Panic spread.
The rats staggered backward, fear replacing hunger.
Li Qinwu turned, eyes blazing.
"If you want to die, stand still! If not—stay behind me!"
Then he charged forward.
---
Li Qinwu advanced like a storm.
The rats scattered before him—those too slow were cut down by bursts of gunfire.
Seven. Eight at a time.
Bodies dropped. Blood soaked the ground.
Behind him, Joel's family followed closely—fear forcing obedience.
Good.
He accelerated.
In the bottom nest, strength was everything.
Hesitation meant death.
If he showed dominance, the rats would scatter.
If he faltered—they would devour him.
---
Then—
A steel pipe whistled past his head.
Li Qinwu turned sharply.
A bald man rushed him, machete raised.
No hesitation.
Bang.
The man's head exploded.
Li Qinwu didn't even slow—
But behind him—
A scream.
Joel's mother.
Another lunatic had lunged forward, trying to snatch the child from her arms.
Li Qinwu cursed.
He grabbed the fallen machete, rushed forward—
Slash!
Both arms severed.
Blood sprayed.
Another swing—
The head dropped.
---
But the delay cost him.
The rats surged again.
Greed returned.
An automatic weapon in the bottom nest wasn't just power—it was destiny.
Their fear turned into madness.
---
Li Qinwu reacted instantly.
He emptied the last rounds in a direction—clearing a path.
Then—
He threw the gun.
It arced through the air.
Every rat's gaze followed it.
They surged toward it—fighting, hacking, killing each other.
Chaos erupted.
---
Li Qinwu didn't waste a second.
He pulled out the pistol.
Shoved it into Joel's hands.
"Run! Don't stop! Don't look back!"
"Go to the Pure Water Guild—tell them my name!"
He slammed Joel's father forward.
"RUN!"
They ran.
Joel fired blindly, crying.
Li Qinwu followed behind—machete in hand—cutting down anyone who got close.
He became their shield.
Their executioner.
Their only chance.
---
They were almost there.
Almost—
Then—
Bang.
A gunshot.
Pain exploded through his abdomen.
The bullet tore clean through him.
He staggered—
Fell.
---
In that single moment—
They were separated.
The rats swarmed him.
---
Li Qinwu forced himself up.
Blood poured from his wound.
Pain burned.
But his eyes—
Calm.
Cold.
---
He looked at the swarm.
Hundreds of eyes stared back.
Hungry.
Waiting.
---
Li Qinwu laughed.
And charged.
---
His blade rose—
Crushed a skull.
Side slash—
A throat opened.
Blood sprayed.
Then—
They overwhelmed him.
Blades.
Pipes.
Chaos.
Even then—
He kept killing.
Until the very last second.
---
Li Qinwu opened his eyes.
He was back.
Naked.
Alive.
On his bed.
Eight hours later.
---
He smacked his lips.
Got up.
Roasted a few potatoes.
Ate slowly.
Silently.
---
Then sat.
Thinking.
---
Being beaten to death by a mob—
That feeling…
Was worth remembering.
---
After a while, he stood.
Walked to his stash.
Checked his loot.
---
The brewing machine had finished another bottle.
He took it out.
Refilled the materials.
Set the next cycle.
---
And just like that—
He resumed.