Chapter 62: Mr. Su, I Was Wrong!

Forged from cold metal, the bomb casings gleamed with a chilling light. The main bodies were cylindrical, each topped with a small electronic display. The red numbers flashing across the screens looked like a devil's countdown, framed by a dense tangle of wiring and interfaces.

Cold sweat beaded on Han Yu's face. He suddenly regretted ever offending this country bumpkin from the Lower District. The man might look gentle and unassuming, but underneath, he was undeniably an extremely dangerous figure.

What kind of sane person planted this many bombs in their own home?

Originally, he had considered breaking through the siege to capture the ringleader first and apprehend Su Mu directly. But the moment he saw the bombs, his blood ran cold. He didn't dare make a single reckless move, terrified he might accidentally trigger one of the explosives during an attack. If those hundreds of bombs detonated, the entire Vipers Gang Headquarters would be razed to the ground.

Even with his considerable strength, he didn't have the confidence to withstand the blast of that many bombs.

Yang Dongqing also broke out in a cold sweat. He had never imagined Su Mu was hiding so many trump cards. His own previous defeat had been entirely justified—even if he had managed to win back then, he probably wouldn't have made it out of the Poisonous Snake Gang alive.

Only Murong Mengli managed to remain calm. Though the noble lady's pupils had contracted, she maintained her basic dignity.

She finally understood why Yang Dongqing had described Su Mu the way he did—a gentleman with a touch of madness.

This was certainly mad enough.

"What do you think, Mr. Han?" Su Mu asked politely, like a gentleman showing off his collection to a guest.

A drop of cold sweat slid down Han Yu's face. His muscles were pulled taut, his eyes darting around. "Cut the bluffing! I don't believe you'd actually detonate them. There is a noble of the Empire sitting right here. If you're convicted of murdering an imperial noble, there won't be a single safe haven for you in the entire Chiyan Empire!"

Su Mu smiled faintly. "You are wrong. Miss Murong won't die; she is carrying some kind of defensive Artifact. I won't die, because this is just my clone. My subordinates won't die either, because their scaled armor provides enough defense. Only you... will die."

Murong Mengli's expression shifted slightly. She hadn't expected Su Mu to see right through to the defensive Artifact she carried.

Han Yu's face stiffened. Refusing to give up, he pointed at Yang Dongqing. "What about him?! He's your subordinate too!"

"It's fine. If he dies, he dies."

Yang Dongqing: "..."

Even though he was already used to such ice-cold words coming from Su Mu's otherwise warm lips, it still felt pretty damn awful to hear!

"Mr. Han, it is time for you to choose. Apologize, or... die."

Han Yu's expression grew even uglier. His pride wouldn't allow him to apologize to someone from the Lower District, but he didn't want to die, either.

At that moment, Murong Mengli spoke up. "Han Yu, apologize." Her tone was cold, carrying an air that brooked no argument.

"I... I was wrong." Han Yu finally lowered his proud head. He continuously comforted himself with the thought that he was simply following Murong Mengli's orders. Besides, there was no need to fight to the death with a country bumpkin from the Lower District.

Su Mu shook his head. "Not enough."

Han Yu's face flashed with anger. "What more do you want?! Do you expect me to kneel?!"

"A good suggestion."

"You!" Han Yu's chest heaved violently. His eyes practically shot fire as extreme humiliation boiled within him.

Beep!

Su Mu pulled a remote control from his pocket and pressed the button.

The next moment, the bright red numbers on the time bombs' displays began to flash wildly.

At the same time, the scaled monsters quietly blocked all the exits.

"Fuck!" Yang Dongqing panicked, leaping to his feet and bolting for the door.

"I told you he was a madman, but you didn't believe me! Hurry up and get out of the way, let me out first! I'm on your fucking side!"

The scaled monsters didn't make things difficult for Yang Dongqing, opening up a gap to let him slip out.

Han Yu's heart pounded wildly. No! I can't die here! I still have a great future ahead of me. It's not worth fighting to the death with a country bumpkin from the Lower District. He frantically consoled himself with these thoughts, entirely unaware that his arrogance had already been shattered by the fear of death. Thud!

He fell heavily to his knees.

"Mr. Su, I was wrong!!"

Beep!

Su Mu pressed the remote again, and the time bombs stopped flashing.

Then, all the hidden compartments in the hall closed, and the scaled monsters retreated like a receding tide. Su Mu returned to the sofa to drink tea with Murong Mengli, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

"Miss Murong, try this Anshan black tea. I wonder if it suits your taste?"

Murong Mengli lightly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Elegantly picking up her teacup, she took a small sip and savored it carefully. "Smooth and mellow, with a lingering sweet aftertaste. It's a good tea."

She paused for a moment before adding, "I like it very much."

Su Mu smiled faintly, easily reading Murong Mengli's subtext. "Miss Murong indeed has excellent taste. It seems that reaching a cooperative agreement with you will be a pleasure."

The elegant man and woman chatted cheerfully, neither of them paying any attention to Han Yu, who was kneeling on the floor like a stray dog.

Han Yu clenched his fists tightly. His eyes were bloodshot like spiderwebs, yet he didn't dare stand up.

Because Su Mu hadn't told him he could.

He simply didn't dare to take any chances with this kind of perpetually smiling enemy. Perhaps the moment he stood up, he would be targeted again and subjected to even more humiliation.

The bizarre clone technique, the subordinates that looked like nightmare monsters, and the bombs rigged throughout the entire hall—any one of these things was enough to make Han Yu extremely wary.

"Mr. Su, I admire your methods. I don't think I can find a single reason to refuse your investment." Murong Mengli smiled. This time, the smile seemed a little less polite and more like one between friends.

"To a happy partnership," Su Mu said, a smile in his eyes as he held out his hand.

"To a happy partnership." Murong Mengli gave a sweet smile and reached out her own hand.

Her hands were like meticulously carved works of art, slender and delicate. Each finger was straight and perfectly proportioned, with dainty joints and skin as flawlessly white and smooth as mutton-fat jade.

They shook hands politely, pulling away after a brief touch.

Afterward, Murong Mengli left him an address and an Upper District pass before departing with Han Yu.

Su Mu sat alone on the sofa, sipping his tea. He pinched the business card between two fingers. "Bronze Coffin... interesting."

With his keen eye, it wasn't hard to tell that Han Yu and Murong Mengli were entirely at odds. Whether intentionally or not, Han Yu seemed to be working against her, showing no desire to see the Bronze Coffin grow stronger.

But out of fear of her noble status, he didn't dare make his opposition too obvious.

"It seems that the nobles of the Empire aren't as unassailable as people imagine."