"Bang!"

With the artificial advantage of "perfect timing and positioning," with the surrounding environment entirely "bought out," Tycoon threw that unstoppable punch!

The heavy fist slammed directly into Lacan's jaw, the sharp ring on his finger slicing through the skin of his chin and digging into his throat. Lacan's entire body flew backward like a sightseeing car flipped over by an enraged rhinoceros, toppling through the air, completely losing his balance.

"Thud!"

Lacan crashed to the ground, a pained expression twisting his face.

"Ouch..."

He groaned in pain on the ground as Tycoon immediately followed up.

"Bang!"

Another full-force kick struck Lacan square in the chest and sternum, causing him to curl up painfully on the ground like a shrimp.

This could no longer be called a battle. It was nothing short of a one-sided beating, approaching outright bullying.

Fu Luo furrowed his brow. "This is the 'Lacan' from the 'Psychological Society'? Damn it, where exactly is he dangerous?"

"He looks completely like... a pathetic waste!"

He knew Tycoon and Lacan had history between them. This guy was supposedly a "dangerous figure" who had killed many Players.

But...

Where was the danger?

Fu Luo couldn't understand it at all!

And it wasn't just Fu Luo. King Vulture and Kitty were also puzzled.

Given Tycoon's furious reaction, this guy was definitely Lacan, no question. But why did he look like he was about to be beaten to death?

The man on the ground had tears, snot, and blood all streaming down his face, looking utterly cowardly and incompetent.

"Could he be faking it? But what would be the point of faking something like this?"

King Vulture couldn't help but mutter.

"No, it's not an act."

Lin Yu answered immediately in his mind.

He could clearly see that there was no trace of performance in Lacan at this moment. Everything about him was genuine, natural reaction.

This was simply a truly ordinary, average middle-aged man.

But then again...

Lin Yu also didn't understand.

Was the guy suffering from dissociative identity disorder, or what?

But one thing Lin Yu was certain of.

"Lacan" was definitely dangerous.

Because...

After being kicked away by Tycoon, the healthy Dolantine hadn't actually lost consciousness or combat ability.

But...

When she saw Lacan getting beaten, she instead moved even farther away. Now she stood beside the unconscious Nineteen, watching this one-sided beating from a distance alongside Chlorpromazine.

Combining this with what the two of them had said earlier, Lin Yu was firmly convinced...

There was absolutely something wrong with this Lacan.

And it seemed like he was hiding some kind of "dangerous trump card" that didn't discriminate between friend and foe.

Tycoon's brutality continued without pause.

But soon enough, even he grew tired.

Hands covered in blood, Tycoon looked at Lacan, who was barely recognizable as human, his face swollen and bruised, barely clinging to life. He hauled him up off the ground.

Even so, Lacan was still alive.

In fact... it seemed like Tycoon was deliberately restraining himself, making sure he didn't beat the man to death outright.

Lin Yu found this even stranger. "Is Tycoon intentionally tormenting him? No... probably not. That's not Tycoon's character... Even if the guy was utterly despicable, no matter how much Tycoon hated him for what happened back then, he wouldn't do this."

Then it could only mean...

Did Lacan's ability have something to do with "death"?

Just as Lin Yu was thinking this, Tycoon, who was holding Lacan up, started cursing.

"Bastard! Bastard! You think acting like this makes you look innocent? You despicable piece of shit who deserves to die ten thousand times, who deserves to be flayed alive..."

Lacan looked at Tycoon, weakly wiping his cheek, tucking his blood-matted hair behind his ears, then wiping away the nosebleed that had trickled into his mouth.

He continued speaking, as if entirely absorbed in his own world.

"I have no such intentions. You've misunderstood me, Tycoon. I understand what you're saying and doing, but this is not a good way to resolve problems."

Lacan's voice gradually calmed. "You need to... face the facts."

"You lunatic, you piece of trash, you've caused the deaths of so many people," Tycoon said with seething anger. "And now you're trying to lecture me?"

He clenched his fist again and smashed it viciously into Lacan's head.

"Thud!"

Lacan's eyes were bloodshot, hovering on the brink of death, yet he could still speak as if completely unaffected.

"It's not about lectures, it's about facts. I hate lectures too. I didn't cause anyone's death. I was only trying to help them... and then something went wrong."

Lacan muttered to himself, then suddenly looked directly at Tycoon.

"As for you, Boss He, are you going to blame me for all your problems? Do you think all of that was my responsibility?"

Lacan's speech quickened slightly, his eyes locked unblinkingly onto Tycoon.

"Don't you want to recall what happened that day..."

Tycoon suddenly became abnormally agitated, cutting him off with a loud shout.

"Enough!"

He slammed Lacan back onto the ground.

"Crack!"

A crisp sound rang out as Lacan's cervical spine bent at an impossible angle. For a normal person to end up in that state, they would unquestionably be dead by any measure.

His pupils dimmed, and the violent rise and fall of his chest gradually ceased.

"Is he dead?"

Fu Luo asked in shock.

Tycoon grabbed his head in agitation. "Of course not... Damn it! I fell for it! Everyone, stay back!"

Above Lacan's "corpse," black liquid began to "seep" out from the body, then reconverged. Another man, equally ordinary, dressed and looking exactly the same, lay on the ground.

The original Lacan beside him had turned into a shriveled husk, like a deflated black human skin, or perhaps a blurry human silhouette.

Lacan staggered back to his feet and let out a sigh.

"You see... I told you, this is not the way to solve problems."

"I didn't come here wanting anyone to suffer unnecessary harm. I think we should still... have a talk."

As Lacan spoke, Tycoon gritted his teeth.

"There's nothing to talk about between us!"

"No, I believe there is."

Lacan continued, looking down at the "husk" beneath his feet. It had already transformed into a shadow, like a rift or scar in the world itself.

"Ultimately, I just want to retrieve my late friend's belongings..."

As Lacan spoke, something white slowly emerged from within the shadow, then began to writhe.

It looked like an eye in inverted colors. Merely looking at it sent chills down one's spine and made one's skin crawl.

"Damn it. What kind of ability does this guy actually have?"

Fu Luo couldn't help but curse.

The Misty Islands were already eerie enough. He never expected Lacan to be even more unsettling than the things on this island.

Unexpectedly, Fu Luo's cursing made Lacan turn his head around and strike up a conversation with him.

"This is my 'Heart Domain'... more precisely, it's a part of my 'Heart Domain.'"

"It helps me see through people's true thoughts and desires, stripping away the dust twisted and concealed by language, the veneer shaped by appearances, allowing me to see the genuine thoughts that even each person themselves has never known."

"I call it... 'Gaze and Scrutiny.'"

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