Chapter 118: Please Spare My Family!

It was unclear whether Zhou Wei could see in the darkness, but Wang Jin still turned his head and flashed him an “OK” gesture before quietly tiptoeing to the fire escape door on the 32nd floor.

But he quickly sensed something was wrong.

The footsteps coming from downstairs were heavy and chaotic—clearly, there were a lot of people, and almost all of them were men.

Wang Jin frowned. According to the original plan, his sister Wang Jiamei was supposed to call for help, but there shouldn’t be this many people.

Even so, he cautiously stuck his head out and caught a glimpse of a flashlight beam in the stairwell.

Within seconds, a dark, fat, medium-built man with a sinister face appeared at the stairwell landing.

Behind him, a fierce-looking man with a scar on his face, holding a flashlight and a machete, led a group of men up the stairs.

Among them were young guys in black work uniforms and middle-aged men in everyday clothes.

What shocked Wang Jin even more was that his sister Wang Jiamei, with fresh blood at the corner of her mouth and a look of utter despair, was at the very back of the group.

“Biao—Brother Biao…”

A flicker of fear flashed in Wang Jin’s eyes, and the excitement and hope he’d felt vanished in an instant. Still, he forced down his anger and put on a flattering smile:

“Brother Biao, what brings you here?”

His voice was noticeably louder on that last sentence.

Ma Longbiao gave him a meaningful look, squinting his eyes but saying nothing.

The scar-faced man next to him sneered maliciously, his lip twitching.

Meanwhile, Zhou Wei, who was just about to pick the last pin in the lock, froze. He hurriedly put away the wire and stuffed it in his pocket, then quickly walked toward his own apartment.

He was only halfway there when Ma Longbiao and his men reached the fire escape door.

No one spoke, as if waiting for Ma Longbiao’s command.

“Brother Biao,” Zhou Wei bent over and greeted quietly, but out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the group behind him.

Unfortunately, it was too dark, and Wang Jiamei was at the very back.

At this moment, only one side of the fire escape door was open—he couldn’t see anything.

Ma Longbiao stopped at the fire escape, his fierce gaze sweeping warily over 3201 and then 3204, before lowering his voice: “Let’s talk inside.”

“Alright.”

Zhou Wei glanced at Wang Jin, who was grimacing in pain and frantically winking at him, hesitated for a second, but finally led the group toward his own apartment.

The crowd filed in, packing the once-empty living room and dining area to the brim.

With a “bang,” the last young man in locked the door behind them with a “click.”

The young man didn’t join the others but instead stood guard behind the door, eyes fixed on the peephole.

Ma Longbiao scanned the room, his gaze following the scar-faced man’s flashlight to a corner near the secondary bedroom.

There, Wen Wanli, thin and frail, was trembling like a leaf, eyes full of terror as if she’d seen the devil.

She hunched over slightly, her scarred hands tightly shielding little Zhou Haoyue in her arms.

Zhou Haoyue’s head was buried in her embrace.

With her back to the crowd, no one could see her face, but the sound of chaotic footsteps made her tiny body tremble as well.

Zhou Wei finally spotted his wife Wang Jiamei, cowering at the back of the group with a wounded mouth. Rage surged through him.

He took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and forced himself to stay calm. He grabbed a relatively tall stool and placed it behind Ma Longbiao.

“Brother Biao, please have a seat.”

Ma Longbiao shot him a cold glare and sat down heavily.

A young man in a black work uniform pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and respectfully offered it to him.

Ma Longbiao casually took one, and the young man immediately lit it for him.

He took a slow drag, his icy gaze fixed on Zhou Wei, who stood with his head bowed.

The scar-faced man followed Ma Longbiao’s gaze, shining the flashlight in Zhou Wei’s face and curling his lips in a sinister smirk.

The others stood silently, barely daring to breathe.

The room felt like a struggle session—suddenly silent, with only the sound of torrential rain beating against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Auntie, have they…have they left yet?” Zhou Haoyue, still hiding in Wen Wanli’s arms, sniffled and asked in a trembling voice.

She tried to turn her head, but Wen Wanli pulled her back protectively.

Hearing her voice, a trace of annoyance flickered in Ma Longbiao’s eyes as he smoked.

He took a deep drag, then jerked his chin forward and grunted, “Hm?”

The men in black work uniforms immediately understood. They pulled out several filthy rags from their pockets.

At the same time, a few of them stepped forward in pairs and restrained Wang Jin, Wang Jiamei, Wen Wanli, and Zhou Haoyue.

Before they could even scream, the men had balled up the dirty rags and shoved them into their mouths.

“No!”

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

“Help!”

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

…

The middle-aged men in regular clothes standing near the scar-faced man recoiled in fear, their pupils contracting in terror.

Seeing her daughter gagged, Wang Jiamei struggled and whimpered, trying to resist, but someone slapped her hard across the face.

The slap landed near her eye and temple, so hard that her vision blurred.

Seeing this, the veins on Zhou Wei’s forehead bulged.

But instead of resisting, he dropped to his knees with a heavy thud in front of Ma Longbiao, his jaw clenched so tight it was about to shatter.

“Brother Biao, it’s my fault! This was all my idea—please, I beg you, spare my family!”

“Mmm! Mmm!” The gagged women burst into tears, thrashing desperately.

They didn’t beg for mercy, but their eyes were full of despair and defiance.

“Brother Biao, they’re coming up,” the young man who’d been watching the peephole quickly reported in a low voice.

Ma Longbiao didn’t even look up. “Let them in.”

The door creaked open and closed again with a soft click.

A young man in black led in a pair of dazed middle-aged parents.

Both had blood at the corners of their mouths.

Their mouths weren’t gagged, but they didn’t say a word.

They staggered as they walked.

“Brother Biao, as you instructed, we kept these two. The rest have been dealt with,” the young man reported quietly.

Zhou Wei’s pupils shrank at these words, a chill running through his body.

Ma Longbiao said nothing, just looked at Zhou Wei and ordered, “Hands out.”

Kneeling, Zhou Wei didn’t understand, but he turned his palms up and stretched out his hands."