AWAKENING THE DAILY INTELLIGENCE SYSTEM

Chapter 779: 331 Pitiful Victim

With all his might, he yanked downward again, as if trying to vent the long-buried resentment in his heart through this single pull. Even though the densely packed needle tips pierced his body, sending waves of searing pain, he seemed oblivious to it. His entire being was consumed by an unrelenting hatred for Jack Thompson.

“What nonsense are you spouting? If it weren’t for me, you’d have died in that godforsaken mountain village long ago! The money you have, the women, the food, the clothes—didn’t I give you all of it?” Jack Thompson roared back indignantly, his voice hoarse as veins bulged on his neck. The fury on his face burned like an unquenchable fire. In his mind, Alicia Linder owed him a debt of gratitude, and such betrayal was utterly unjustifiable.

“Ha!” Alicia Linder let out a cold laugh, thick with mockery. With great effort, he tilted his head up, his eyes locking onto Jack Thompson’s with unadulterated disdain and disgust. “You saved me back then not because of kindness, but because you saw how well I could transport your drugs! Without me mediating, do you really think they’d have trusted you with the Los Angeles drug trade?” He paused, his teeth clenched tightly, before continuing with venomous anger, “For years, I did so much for you. Whatever I owed you has been repaid in full. If you want me dead, then let’s die together!” With that, he gritted his teeth, summoned every ounce of strength he had, and endured the excruciating pain ripping through his body like a sea of knives, yanking Jack Thompson down with ferocity once more.

Amid this violent struggle, Jack Thompson began to feel a rising exhaustion. His palms grew damp with sweat, and the friction between his hands and the metal pipe weakened, making it increasingly difficult to maintain his grip. Finally, with Alicia Linder’s final, forceful tug, his hands slowly slipped from the pipe. His entire body plummeted like a broken kite, crashing into the horrifying sea of needles below—alongside Alicia Linder.

“Ahhh!!!”

“Ahhh!!!”

Two harrowing, pain-filled screams instantly erupted within the live stream. The anguished cries seemed to pierce through the screen, slamming directly into the hearts of every viewer watching.

“I knew it! Scum like them could never commit acts of self-sacrifice. When it comes down to it, they’re nothing more than a pack of heartless animals!” an enraged viewer exclaimed in the chat.

“So that subordinate was a victim once too? Only to lose his way and become a perpetrator himself? It really proves the saying: pitiful people often have something detestable about them,” another viewer commented with a sigh.

“Drug dealers like them don’t deserve an ounce of sympathy. Let them slowly rot away in endless agony—it’s the least they deserve for their crimes,” someone else remarked coldly.

“I once had a close friend—a bright and cheerful guy. But once he got hooked on drugs, he was ruined. His family fell apart; his life was shattered. People like these traffickers should be cast into the deepest pits of Hell—they all deserve to die!” typed another, pouring their pain and anger into the chat.

Meanwhile, the clock mounted on the wall ticked mercilessly. Another minute and thirty seconds had quietly slipped away.

Inside the glass container, Jack Thompson and Alicia Linder lay battered in the sea of needles. Their bodies shook uncontrollably from the pain, and every tiny movement felt like countless steel needles were churning through their flesh. They dared not make any sudden moves, terrified that the gleaming needle tips surrounding them would once again pierce their skin, delivering even more unbearable torment.

After a long pause, Jack Thompson managed to recover slightly. His face twisted in agony as he gritted his teeth, the excess flesh on his face trembling with every wave of pain. He opened his mouth arduously and said, “There’s not much time left. Now that I’m down here too, there’s no point in us fighting anymore. Let’s just hurry up and search for the key together. Maybe there’s still a slim chance we can make it out alive.” At this moment, he was forced to temporarily set aside his enmity with Alicia Linder. After all, survival was paramount.

But by now, the drug inside the syringe had begun to unleash its effects on Alicia Linder. His consciousness grew hazy, and a dazed look appeared in his eyes. After hearing Jack Thompson’s voice, he gave an absentminded nod. His entire body swayed unsteadily like someone stumbling drunk, and he tottered as he stood up. His unstable stance made it seem like he could fall into the sea of needles again at any moment.

Suddenly, Alicia Linder seemed overtaken by an inexplicable, almost supernatural force that numbed him to the pain. He knelt bolt upright, his hands moving chaotically like a deranged dancer’s. He began raking through the ocean of syringes with reckless abandon, desperately searching for the key to their salvation. Each swing of his arms sent sharp needle points plunging into his flesh, the blood from his limbs dripping continuously and staining the surrounding syringes crimson. Viewers watching this scene sucked in sharp breaths. The imagery was so grotesque and horrifying that many found it difficult to watch. Yet Alicia Linder seemed like a soulless husk of a man, entirely unfazed. Not even a flinch crossed his blood-soaked face as his expression remained vacant, his movements mechanical, locked in a ceaseless and frenzied dance of self-destruction.

But in the next moment, something utterly unexpected caused every spectator in the live stream to freeze in shock. Just moments ago, Jack Thompson had vowed cooperation, claiming they should search peacefully for the key together. Now, however, a sinister flame ignited in his eyes—a gleam as vicious as a predator’s upon spotting its prey. Without warning, he hurled himself forward like a pouncing leopard, crashing violently into Alicia Linder’s back.

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