Integrity

The dial tone, "Beep... beep...", sounded like the last two tolls of a death knell, shattering the solidified, suffocating silence in the living room.

Brother Hu (Wang Hu) held his phone, still in the position of answering the call, stunned for a good two or three seconds. The muscles on his face stiffened at first, as if he hadn't reacted to the other party daring to hang up first and saying such a light yet heavy "I'm waiting." Then, a surge of rage from being utterly despised and mocked erupted from the bottom of his heart like magma!

"Hold!!"

He suddenly let out a beast-like roar, the veins on his forehead and neck bulging, and the ferocity in his triangular eyes almost materialized!

"Fine! Fine! Fine!" He roared hoarsely at the phone, which was now only ringing with a busy tone, spitting as he spoke, "You fucking have guts! Fine! Just you wait! Just wait to collect your good-for-nothing brother's corpse! I mean what I say!"

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently, clearly feeling that this wasn't enough to vent his anger. He suddenly turned his anger towards the unknown young man on the other end of the phone, his voice distorted and twisted with extreme rage:

"And you! You little bastard! Don't think that just because you're hiding in domestic, behind those cops, I can't fucking touch you! I have plenty of connections! If I don't kill you, I'm not Wang Hu! You just wait! I'll drag you out one day and make you know what it means to wish you were dead!!!"

His final threat echoed in the empty, noisy room. The blond-haired guy, the bald guy, and the others nearby instinctively shrank back, not daring to provoke him. They had seen Brother Hu lose his temper before, but nothing like today. First, he was scolded by his hostage father, then he was retorted with even colder words by some kid who appeared out of nowhere, and finally, he was hung up on... This series of humiliations was simply grinding Brother Hu's "prestige" in this area into the ground.

Brother Hu finished yelling, his chest still heaving violently, his knuckles white from gripping the phone so tightly. He stared intently at the remaining call logs on the shattered screen, as if trying to see through the signal to drag out that audacious young man and tear him to pieces.

A few seconds later, he suddenly raised his arm and, with all his might, smashed the phone, which had already been cracked once, hard and decisively against the stained wall opposite!

"Bang—crash!"

The phone struck the wall with a dull thud, followed by the ear-piercing sound of plastic and glass components shattering and scattering. Shards flew everywhere, landing on the floor, the card table, and even bouncing to the feet of several thugs nearby.

The phone was completely reduced to wreckage.

Brother Hu, panting heavily, his eyes bloodshot, like a caged beast driven to utter rage, surveyed his trembling subordinates and spat out chilling words through clenched teeth:

"Go! Go to the dog kennel right now! Drag that Sun Penghui out here!"

The blond-haired man was startled and instinctively said, "Brother Hu, are you... really going to chop it up? What about the money..."

"Money my ass!" Brother Hu whirled around, glaring at him with a terrifying look in his eyes. "I don't want money anymore! I want their lives! I want them to regret this! First, cripple that kid! Break his arms and legs! Then... then find a way to investigate! Find out who that little bastard who made that phone call is! Where is he! I want him to watch his brother die with his own eyes!"

A palpable killing intent and irrational rage filled the space. Yellow Hair and Baldy exchanged a glance, both seeing fear and hesitation in each other's eyes—completely abandoning extortion and turning to personal revenge was contrary to their usual "money-first" logic, and might bring unnecessary trouble. But Brother Hu, enraged at this moment, was clearly deaf to any advice.

At the same time, in China, in the crowded living room of my second aunt's house.

When Lin Feng finished speaking in a calm, almost indifferent tone, saying "I'm waiting," and then decisively pressed the hang-up button, the entire living room seemed to be paused, followed by a silent thunderclap.

All the relatives' eyes, in a stunned silence, were fixed on Lin Feng.

The emotions in that gaze were indescribably complex.

There's a worry -- Oh my god, how dare Xiao Feng talk to the kidnappers like that? And hang up on them right away? Didn't that completely enrage them? What if Xiaohui gets... killed any second now?

There's something puzzling about this kid—he usually seems quite composed, so why is he so reckless at a crucial moment? Where did he get the audacity to say something like that? "I'll wait"? Wait for what? Wait for the kidnappers' revenge?

There was resentment—even anger. Especially Auntie San, who opened her mouth, about to blurt out, "Are you crazy? You want to kill Xiaohui?!", but the words were blocked by Lin Feng's calm yet inexplicably imposing profile, and could only turn into a fierce, anxious, and accusatory glare.

Uncle was also stunned. He remained in the same position, still close to the phone, staring at the locked screen in Lin Feng's hand. He looked up at Lin Feng's expressionless face, his lips trembling, wanting to say something, but felt like his throat was blocked with cotton, his mind blank. The young man's cold words on the phone were still echoing in his ears. That wasn't negotiation; it was more like... issuing an ultimatum? An ultimatum to the kidnappers?

Aunt Wang Guifang's crying stopped. Through her tear-blurred eyes, she looked at Lin Feng, her face a mixture of despair, confusion, and a faint, bewildered hope— Xiao Feng... could he do something?

Lin Feng ignored the piercing gazes around him. As if he had only done something insignificant, he casually placed his phone on the old coffee table next to him, making a soft "click" sound.

Then, he turned around, facing his second aunt who was slumped on the sofa with a blank expression, and bent down slightly so that his line of sight was level with hers.

His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, carrying a strange, calming power that made people involuntarily want to believe him.

"Second Aunt, don't worry."

He paused, his gaze calm and resolute.

"Tonight, I'll have my friend rescue Little Brother Hui first."

Upon hearing this, a suppressed gasp filled the living room.

Tonight? Rescue them? From those vicious kidnappers far away overseas?

How... how is this possible?

Auntie's eyes widened suddenly, a look of disbelief flashing within them, only to be quickly overwhelmed by deeper fear and suspicion. "Xiao Feng... you... what did you say? Tonight? This... how could this be..."

"I mean what I say." Lin Feng interrupted her incoherent questioning, his tone not emphasizing anything, but carrying an undeniable certainty. He didn't offer further explanation; after saying this, he straightened up.

Under the astonished and hesitant gazes of everyone, he calmly took out his phone from his pocket—an ordinary-looking but relatively new smartphone.

As he unlocked the screen, he walked steadily toward the door, saying calmly:

"I'm going out to make a phone call and contact a friend."

His Back View disappeared through the doorway, and the old security door creaked shut, shutting out the complex emotions of astonishment, doubt, fear, confusion, and a glimmer of hope that filled the room.

The stairwell was somewhat chilly, and the motion-activated lights, worn out from years of disrepair, were unresponsive. Lin Feng didn't go far, but stood in the shadows at the corner of the stairs. It was quiet here; he could faintly hear the sound of the television from the neighbor's house downstairs, but he wouldn't let his relatives inside hear his conversation.

He turned on his phone screen, swiped his finger across the contacts a few times as if dialing, and then held the phone to his ear.

At the same time, his consciousness was already as calm as still water. A clear and direct command crossed the vast space and instantly arrived at the figure in the brightly lit server room of a telecom fraud industrial park in Northern Myanmar.

Almost instantly, the response came, cold, efficient, and without the slightest delay. "Boss."

Lin Feng mentally conveyed Sun Penghui's situation, his approximate location (related to the dog kennel), the characteristics of the kidnapper leader "Wang Hu" (Brother Hu), and the key points of the phone conversation in the most concise language. There were no superfluous descriptions, only the key information.

K responded without the slightest hesitation, without even asking for any details, as if this information was enough for him to construct a complete action plan and risk assessment in his mind:

"Understood, boss. Locate the area associated with 'Doghouse' and ' Wang Hu ' gang. A piece of cake. We can get them out of the country tonight, arrange for them to stay in a safe house, and then transfer them back to China."

Their efficiency is alarming. That's the ability of top-tier assassins: understand intentions, assess risks, formulate plans, and make commitments—no need for further explanation.

Lin Feng's gaze appeared deep and cold in the dimly lit stairwell. He continued to issue commands in his mind:

"Oh, and there's that ' Brother Hu,' Wang Hu, and the guys around him."

His tone remained calm, yet carried a ruthless decisiveness, as if cutting off the roots of the problem.

"I am a person who values integrity above all else."

"If you promise to send them to feed the dogs, you must keep your word."

On the other end of the phone, or more accurately, on the other end of his mind, K's response was completely calm, as if he were simply receiving a perfectly ordinary instruction:

"Understood, boss."

Leave it all to me.