The Soul Skywell was as silent as death. The investigators were struck dumb with shock, even overwhelmed by fear and dread.

A Minister Level figure had died just like that, leaving no trace of his body.

Even more shocking was the blazing thunderlight that descended from the skies. It was a power that did not belong to any Inheritance Path but originated from an Ancient Times' classified Forbidden Spell. Just a casual glance was enough to kill a Sixth Rank Ascender.

This was the power of the President.

The might of a Catastrophe Level individual!

This time, no one applauded—no one would be so tactless.

The higher-ups remained expressionless. They were all veterans who had clawed their way through blood and fire and were no strangers to such scenes.

Throughout the long river of history, far too many had succumbed to the allure of power and immortality, betraying humanity's cause, slaughtering former comrades, and sacrificing lives to strike bargains with the Gods.

Whether it was the Ether Association or the You Ying Group,

or any other organization,

this was nothing new.

"Minister Zhou Xuanyi will be dealt with as a traitor. His family will undergo a thorough investigation in the coming days. If no issues are found, they will be sent to a protected zone for supervision. Any descendants wishing to join the association in the future will require approval from the Highest Council."

The old servant scanned the surroundings, cleared his throat, and said unhurriedly, "Effective immediately, headquarters will hold a selection meeting to appoint a worthy and capable Sixth Rank Ascender as the new minister of the Fengdu branch."

Thus, the disposition of the deceased minister's affairs was formally announced.

"Finally, regarding the case investigation of the former Night Watcher, the SSS-level investigator Mu Feng,"

he paused slightly, "and his associates."

Gu Jianlin's hand, resting on the round table, jerked back like he'd been shocked.

It had finally begun!

He turned to the icy, aloof older sister beside him and said sincerely, "Thank you."

Tang Ling raised an eyebrow. "Thank me for what?"

"For insisting I join you on the Returning Burial Forest mission last time. If not for that, this case wouldn't have been reopened for investigation."

Gu Jianlin spoke calmly, "Truly, thank you."

"If you can unravel this case, then perhaps you can also uncover the truth about my great-grandfather."

Tang Ling cradled her chin in her hand. "A mutually beneficial arrangement, that's all."

Gu Jianlin had to admit—she was indeed a good teammate.

At the top of the Soul Skywell's steps, the old servant continued, "In light of the disputes surrounding these cases, we will meticulously review and re-investigate the events, providing corresponding evidence. The investigation will take one month, after which all evidence will be submitted to the Judicial Court for trial and public judgment."

As soon as those words fell, Councilman Zhang narrowed his eyes first, thoughts unclear.

The members of the Judgement Court offered no objections.

Han Jing's gaze flickered, though he expressed no emotion.

The Night Watchers present showed visible excitement and anticipation, all looking toward the back of the assembly.

At the very rear of the crowd, there was a wheelchair. Fu Qingxuan sat there, hooked to an IV. After extended medical care, he had finally regained consciousness, as well as his memory and sanity, though he was still very weak.

Fu Chaoyang pushed the wheelchair from behind. His small face remained stubborn as he scanned the crowd, searching for someone.

Meanwhile, a golden beam of light descended at the forefront of the steps.

Uncle Mu stepped out from within the golden light, his face full of emotion.

He wore training garb, and no shackles bound him—there was no need. In his current crippled state, anyone present could take him down single-handedly, so he was no threat.

Yet the demeanor of the once-super-elite remained. He stood there, neither groveling nor arrogant.

He looked around at the faces, familiar and yet unfamiliar.

Former colleagues and comrades-in-arms all stared at him with mixed emotions—some nostalgic, some moved.

Others looked wary, even hateful.

Above, on the ethereal dome, a majestic yet intangible visage gazed down at him, void of expression.

Lin Dong and Rhein also stared down from on high, their faces unreadable.

The old servant locked eyes with this former elite and asked with gravity, "Mu Feng, do you still insist that you were not bewitched by the power of the Ancient Gods, that you did not harm your comrades during the mission, and that you were framed? Do you still assert that neither you, your daughter, nor your associates committed any crimes?"

Though just a servant, everyone knew he spoke as the President's proxy.

As for why the President herself did not speak.

It wasn't about maintaining an air of mystery.

Everyone understood—the President was just lazy.

And her temper was notoriously bad.

Back in her younger days, minor disagreements often ended with her resorting to violence and murder.

Especially when dealing with argumentative types or those who spoke out of turn.

If you pushed her too far, she wouldn't hesitate to kill you.

"Think carefully before you speak. If it's ultimately proven that you did indeed commit these acts, then everyone who has vouched for you will face repercussions. We reserve the right to question their true intentions."

The old servant's voice turned stern.

At this moment, Mu Feng felt the weight of countless gazes bearing down on him, an immense pressure.

However, when he turned around and saw the cold-faced young man in the crowd, he faltered slightly.

For a brief moment, it was as if he were staring at an old friend again.

He knew this was his old friend's son, who had wagered his life and future to buy him this chance.

Perhaps out of pride, determined to do what his father had failed to achieve.

Or maybe because he was simply too kind-hearted to tolerate such suffering, driving him to act out in righteous fury.

A stormy night in Black Cloud City came to mind—this young man, stepping over corpses, standing alone against a crowd of investigators, but speaking solely to him: Better to stand and fight than to bend and submit.