Chen Tianhao's penthouse occupied the top floor of the Chen Tower. A fortress. Biometric locks. Pressure sensors. Armed guards on every floor.
Lin Mo didn't climb. He walked in the front door.
He wore the face of a harried delivery drone pilot – a stolen uniform, a cheap holographic mask flickering slightly. The guard at the private elevator barely glanced at his forged clearance chip.
[VOID FIST PULSE: 0.5 UNITS - DISABLE CAMERA LOOP]
The elevator ascended. Lin Mo dropped the disguise.
He found Chen Tianhao in a sunken living room, surrounded by medical drones. His torso was a lattice of bio-support braces, his face pale, eyes feverish with pain and hate.
"You!" Chen croaked, fumbling for a panic button.
Lin Mo was faster. A Void Fist pulse silenced the drones. Another sapped the strength from Chen's hand.
"Mistveil Canyon," Lin Mo said, voice flat. "What poisoned my sister?"
Chen Tianhao spat blood. "Go to hell."
Lin Mo placed a hand on Chen's chest brace. Not to crush. To feed. [ABSORB: PAIN RECEPTORS (LOCALIZED)]
Chen's eyes bulged. Not from agony. From its absence. The constant, grinding pain that had been his world since Lin Mo shattered him… vanished. The sudden relief was terrifying.
"It's quiet, isn't it?" Lin Mo whispered. "I can take the pain away. Or…" He reversed the flow. [INJECT: AMPLIFIED NEURAL SIGNAL (SIMULATED CRUSHING)]
Chen Tianhao screamed. A silent, breathless shriek. His back arched against the braces.
"The canyon!" Lin Mo hissed.
"The… the Bloom!" Chen gasped, tears streaming. "Deep in the fissure… behind the Spirit Herb! A crystal flower… it pulsed… spores in the air! We didn't know! I swear!"
[ANALYSIS: CATALYST POLLEN - REF: SISTER'S CONDITION - MATCH 99.9%]
"Where is it now?"
"Father… took it! Locked it in the Vault! Below the–"
Alarms screamed. Not building security. Deeper. Resonant. Ki alarms.
Chen Bailong was home.
Lin Mo slammed his palm onto Chen Tianhao's forehead. [INJECT: NEURAL OVERLOAD - TEMPORARY COMA]
He turned as the reinforced living room wall exploded inward. Chen Bailong stood in the smoke, golden ki blazing like a miniature sun, his eyes pure murder.
"You touch my son," the Martial Master growled, "you die slow."
Lin Mo smiled. Cold. Empty. "He's your weakness." He raised his hand, Void Fist energy swirling around his fist. "Let's see how well you protect him."