Ten o'clock at night, the banquet was nearing its end.

In the vast hall, only a dozen or so guests remained, and most of them were already drunk. Only a few with good tolerance could barely maintain the last bit of sobriety.

Yang Lie was also feeling a bit tired, urged by both the intoxication and fatigue, he wished he could just lie down on the floor and sleep.

But after all, he was the helmsman of Tiger Head Heavy Industries, a social elite of Central City, and naturally couldn't disregard etiquette and dignity like those lower-class people.

He planned to first go to the restroom to freshen up, conveniently use the toilet, tidy up his appearance, and finally give an impromptu speech to the remaining guests, only then it could be considered complete.

He acted immediately.

He staggered through the empty corridor.

For some reason, he suddenly felt that today's building seemed much quieter than usual.

Many familiar faces were nowhere to be seen, those he valued highly, instead, it was the lowly servants occupying most of his sight.

However, he didn't really care, or perhaps in his current state, he didn't have the mind to care much.

Yang Lie heavily pushed open the restroom door.

"Clack~!"

The motion-sensing light sprang to life.

The place was as clean as usual... the white tiles; the gleaming mirrors; the marble floor and washstand were spotless, pleasing to the eye.

But strangely, as soon as he entered, Yang Lie felt a sudden inexplicable chill.

A bone-chilling cold wind swept in from all sides, as if he had stumbled into an ice cellar in the height of summer, making him shiver.

"That's odd..."

He frowned, staring at the air vent on the wall, muttering to himself: "Why is the air conditioning set so low?"

"..."

No one responded, and of course, no one could answer.

"Damn things..."

"These new servants are becoming more and more clueless. I don't know what the butler is teaching them..."

Yang Lie muttered a couple of complaints, then leaned over the washstand and washed his face with warm water.

Although it wasn't enough to dispel his intoxication, the sensation of warm water flowing over his cheeks did make him feel noticeably better.

"Drip, drip."

Crystal-clear droplets trickled down his cheeks and hair, dripping into the sink with a crisp sound.

"Drip, drip~"

Yang Lie grabbed a towel nearby and vigorously wiped his face and his short red hair.

Yet, for some reason, his head kept feeling wet, and the "drip drip" sound of falling water persisted, just as noisy as before.

"..."

An inexplicable irritation arose in Yang Lie's mind.

He simply took a hairdryer from the cabinet and violently dried his hair.

But...

"Drip, drip."

"Drip~ drip~ drip!"

The inexplicable dripping sound still existed, and it even seemed to be getting louder.

Infuriated, Yang Lie opened his eyes and reached out to catch the droplets, only to realize upon closer inspection...

The droplets were crimson, slightly warm and viscous.

"Red... water?"

"Is my hair dye running?"

The red-haired Death God did not initially react, thinking it was his own problem.

His red hair wasn't natural but dyed for style, so it seemed normal that it would fade.

"But even if the dye is not sturdy, it shouldn't wash out so easily, right?"

"And this water doesn't seem to be dripping from my hair, rather it's coming from..."

"The ceiling?"

He finally snapped back to reality and subconsciously looked up.

Just then, a drop of crimson liquid fell on his face, sliding down his cheek and into his nasal cavity.

Immediately, an intense stench assaulted his brain.

And Yang Lie finally saw clearly what had been dripping "water" all along, his pupils shrinking.

There was no water leak from the ceiling, nor was it condensation from humidity.

There was a person there, or rather, a ruined corpse.

He was wearing a blue police chief uniform, his limbs severed at the roots, glued to the ceiling tiles with strong adhesive.

Due to the tricky placement, Yang Lie couldn't see him upon entering, only by standing here and looking up was he visible.

His body was somewhat pale, though the limb wounds had been staunched, so it wasn't until now that it started bleeding.

But judging by his blood loss, the blood-stopping was likely done post-mortem.

His true fatal wound was at the back of his head, a single violent blow had shattered his entire back skull, killing him instantly.

Because of this, a strange, foolish smile was etched on his face.

Yang Lie certainly recognized this man in uniform.

He was Yang Lie's best partner over the years, one of the few people he could truly call a friend.

The Chief Commander of the G District Police Station, Officer He.

"Didn't he leave already? I saw him myself... he walked out the door in the surveillance footage, heading toward the district. Why did he end up dead here?"

Fear.

An immense, indescribable fear enveloped his mind instantly, like being pricked by needles, sobering him up somewhat.

As he looked forward, beside Officer He lay a conspicuous arrow pattern.

Formed by the deceased's limbs, the arrow pointed to the depths of the restroom, as if guiding Yang Lie.

"..."

The intense psychological impact, combined with the numbness from the alcohol, left Yang Lie unable to think as cautiously as usual.

He could only instinctively follow the arrow, pushing open the magnetic door blocking his way.

"Bang!"

The moment he stepped inside, a heavy object fell from the door, first striking him, then crashing heavily to the ground due to a lack of support.

It was another mutilated corpse, its head forcibly torn off, eyes bulging wide, staring directly at Yang Lie, unable to find peace in death.

Likewise, Yang Lie recognized this person.

He was the one who had just taken the largest "death quota", constantly talking about benefiting the citizens, yet secretly committing countless blood debts, the head of [Dongnan Chemical].

His figure also appeared on surveillance footage and should have left an hour ago.

But he ended up dying here.

No... not just him.

Most who had just boasted at the banquet about contributing to the citizens of Nest City, yet secretly contracted "death quotas", died here, their bodies fragmented, expressions either terrified or puzzled.

The small restroom hid dozens of mutilated corpses.

No matter how glamorous their lives were, or the influence they had in Nest City as dignified elites...

Here, in this filthy place of reincarnation, they all became equals, indistinguishable from the souls they had once wronged.

Equally killed, equally relishing in death, becoming part of a pile of corpses.

A person has only one life; a person dies when killed, losing everything of theirs, and this is the fairest thing in the world.

When the law cannot uphold justice.

Killing and death become the only justice.

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