Volume One, Chapter 13: The First Enforcement

Li Yang’s stomach churned, still nauseated by the lingering stench of stale alcohol from the KTV private room. His skin seemed to remember the heavy, meaningful pat on the shoulder from Wang Meng. Leaning against the pitch-black corridor wall, he forced himself to steady his breathing, yet the last look from Xiao Ling haunted his mind relentlessly.

Empty. Desperate. Like a dried-up well, devoid of any life.

“This is your world now, Li Yang,” a voice whispered within him, abruptly yanking him back from the memories of last night.

Morning dawned, and the industrial park was as lifeless as ever.

Inside the office building, the atmosphere was even more oppressive.

Hundreds of team members crammed into the same broad but low-ceilinged hall. Rows of ten worn-out desks lined the space, each seat occupied, bodies nearly pressed against one another. In front of every person was a battered computer, a headset, a script, and handwritten slogans plastered on the walls:

“Performance is survival.”

“No meals today without 100,000 yuan in sales.”

“Resist once, pay with your life.”

The only sound filling the hall was the relentless, mechanical drone of scam scripts recited hundreds of times over:

“Hello, this is the Anti-Fraud Center…”

“To ensure the safety of your funds…”

“We have detected unusual activity on your account…”

The voices were stiff and lifeless, like caged automatons trapped inside steel walls.

Everyone was busy—or forced to appear busy.

Yet, amidst this deathly monotony, one figure stood out as an obvious anomaly.

Ah Qiang.

Li Yang noticed it wasn’t the first time he had dozed off.

His head bowed, half-reclined in his chair, the headset slipping down to his neck, a phone hidden on his lap showing the post-game victory screen of Honor of Kings.

Li Yang watched intently—a ranked match finished, five consecutive wins glaringly displayed.

“Is this guy courting death?” Li Yang clenched his fingers tightly, heart pounding wildly.

The surveillance cameras continued to spin.

Red light.

Staring unblinkingly at Ah Qiang.

He immediately stood and kicked Ah Qiang’s chair, voice low and threatening: “Put the phone away. Stop playing!”

Ah Qiang groggily lifted his head, yawning: “Brother Li… just one more game. This one’s a win.”

“Are you insane?” Li Yang’s heartbeat accelerated, eyes darting toward the cameras. “Pick up the phone! Now! Or else—”

“Alright, alright, I get it…” Ah Qiang, irritated, put on his headset and lazily dialed, “Hello? This is the Anti-Fraud Center…”

His tone was perfunctory to the extreme.

—Three minutes later, the call ended.

Performance: zero.

Li Yang stared at the blank record on the screen for the entire day, heart hammering, sweat sliding down his forehead.

This was not the first time.

Three consecutive days of zero results, and today it had been caught on camera.

This is bad…

Sure enough, five minutes later, the door was kicked open.

Bang!

The iron door nearly deformed from the blow. Scorpion stormed in with two security guards, each gripping a stun baton, their faces wearing that familiar smile that toyed with life and death.

The entire office of hundreds fell silent—for a brief moment.

They barely glanced up, then resumed dialing, typing, as if nothing had happened.

Some even muttered quietly, “Who’s the unlucky one today?”

Indifferent. Numb.

Because they had long since grown used to this.

“Li Yang.”

Scorpion’s cold voice cut through the air.

Li Yang’s heart tightened. He quickly stood, hands instinctively clutching his shirt’s hem, neck stiffly turning toward Scorpion. “Brother Scorpion…”

Scorpion smiled faintly, throwing the stun baton onto the desk with a harsh metallic clang. “Your subordinate’s useless?”

“I… I can handle it myself,” Li Yang gritted his teeth, forcing calm.

“Handle it yourself?” Scorpion sneered, snapping his fingers. “Everyone, watch closely!”

“Let your team leader give you a demonstration.”

Ah Qiang was dragged out and slammed to the floor.

His phone was crushed on the spot by the guards, the shattered glass embedding into the floor, glittering harshly.

“Brother Li… please, no… I was wrong…”

Ah Qiang’s voice trembled; he knew the rules here all too well.

Li Yang felt his heartbeat accelerate, the stun baton in his palm cold as a serpent. He knew—if he didn’t act, Scorpion would do it himself, and the outcome…

Would be far worse.

“Li Yang, do it.”

Scorpion’s voice was like a cold blade pressed against his throat.

“Either you act, or you get hit.”

Li Yang’s heart sank. His teeth clenched white. He slammed the switch—

“Zzzzzzt—!”

The crackling electricity tore through the air.

Ah Qiang’s body convulsed violently like a beast seized by cramps. He writhed frantically on the floor, releasing agonizing screams that tore at the soul, fingers clawing wildly at the ground, leaving bloody scratches.

“Ahhhh—!”

The twisted screams echoed through the room, yet—

No one looked up.

They continued dialing, continued deceiving, reciting those cold, rehearsed scam lines as if the screams were nothing but background noise.

Ah Qiang’s struggle grew weaker, his body twitching, foam spilling from his mouth, the air thick with the smell of burning flesh.

Li Yang finally stopped.

He felt his hand no longer belonged to him. The stun baton rolled from his palm to the floor with a dull thud.

Scorpion laughed, “That’s more like it.”

He waved a hand casually, “Throw this piece of trash into the water cell.”

“Water cell?”

Li Yang’s heart jolted violently.

The water cell.

A true hell.

Ah Qiang was dragged away by the guards, down the long corridor to the rusted iron door.

“Welcome to your new home,” the guard sneered, kicking him inside.

Inside the water cell, knee-deep, filthy water churned with leftover food scraps, garbage, and an unidentified yellowish liquid.

“You know the rules here, right?”

“Eat the dog’s leftovers daily, soak in the filth, and those who don’t last three days get thrown to the wild dogs behind the hill.”

The heavy door slammed shut, leaving Ah Qiang weakly collapsed in the cold, foul water, gasping, lips trembling…

Li Yang stood in the office, eyes fixed on the bloodstain on the floor, his heart gripped as if by an invisible hand.

“Have I… truly become a devil?”