The deafening crash echoed through the studio hall.
That kick didn't just send a solid oak door flying—it shattered Xavier Gu's carefully crafted mask of virtue.
Silence.
Only the door panel lying on the ground continued its feeble protest, creaking softly in defeat.
Seconds later, the livestream chat exploded like a dam bursting, instantly crashing the servers.
[Holy shit! Was that kick CGI? The door literally FLEW!]
[Violent psycho! That's assault! Ning Jiang needs to be BANNED from entertainment!]
[Wait—did she just say she's sending someone to PRISON? Did I hear that right?]
Center stage, Lily Lin trembled violently in her white dress.
Her freshly applied false lashes quivered as she instinctively shrank behind Xavier, her practiced damsel-in-distress expression freezing halfway before the murderous aura radiating from Ning forced her back.
"Cut the feed! Cut to commercial NOW!"
The director's voice cracked behind the monitors, shrill with panic. "Security! Get this crazy bitch off my stage!"
Several black-uniformed guards rushed forward.
Ning turned her head.
Those eyes—pitch black, utterly emotionless—locked onto them with a single glance that froze the grown men mid-stride, ice crawling up their spines.
She didn't spare them another look. Her heels clicked against the floor with mechanical precision as she walked straight toward the control booth.
Each step landed like a hammer on exposed nerves.
"Pull the power! NOW!" the director shrieked.
Crew members scrambled for the audio cables.
Too late.
The main control screen flickered with static.
Then every technician frantically working the console discovered their mice had frozen. The streaming interface was completely locked.
A blood-red warning box appeared, dominating the screen.
[SYSTEM OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS... FIREWALL BREACHED.]
Inside Ning's mind, the sardonic AI's voice remained flat:
[Host, that kick was badass, but your heart rate just spiked to 145 BPM. You have 1 hour and 58 minutes remaining. Friendly reminder: suggest you catch your breath before continuing to look cool, or you'll literally die mid-power-move.]
"Shut up."
Ning reached the control booth and casually tossed her phone onto the console. No cables. No connection needed.
"Ning! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"
Xavier finally snapped out of his shock, lunging forward with his features twisted in humiliated rage.
"You want mutual destruction? Going to leak those dirty photos of yourself? You think I won't have you rotting in prison for the rest of your pathetic life?!"
He was certain she planned to self-destruct. Once that kind of filth hit the internet, true or false, Ning would be finished.
Ning sidestepped his reaching hand with fluid ease.
She looked at Xavier like he was already a corpse that hadn't stopped breathing yet.
"Dirty photos? You're not worth the pixels."
The moment those words left her lips, the massive LED screen behind her went black.
One second later, blinding red light flooded the studio, illuminating every corner.
Not photos.
Not videos.
A high-resolution scan of an official document—red background, black text, bearing the national emblem seal: **National Tax Bureau Official Report Receipt.**
The entire venue fell silent.
But that was just the appetizer.
The screen shifted to a black background with green text—an Excel spreadsheet.
Data began scrolling at dizzying speed, yet pausing with surgical precision on key figures, magnifying them for maximum impact.
**[April 2023: "Starlight" Dual Contract. Official payment: $1.2M. Actual deposit: $7.2M.]**
**[June 2023: XX Luxury Brand Endorsement. Funds laundered through 'Stellan Studio' to offshore accounts. Tax evasion: $1.8M.]**
Every line corresponded to one of Xavier's "blockbuster" projects.
Every dirty dollar meticulously documented, accurate to two decimal places.
[System: I've helpfully bolded and highlighted the total in red for maximum visual impact. You're welcome.]
The screen froze.
A single, horrifying number consumed the entire display: **$78 MILLION.**
The livestream chat lagged for three full seconds.
Then it detonated with terrifying velocity, comments flooding the screen so densely they obscured the video.
[SEVENTY-EIGHT MILLION?! I haven't even SEEN five hundred thousand in my life!]
[This isn't an Excel sheet—this is the Grim Reaper's ledger!]
[Professional work! This data forensics would make the Big Four accounting firms bow down!]
[Who said Ning was legally illiterate? This sister IS the law!]
On stage, Lily stared at that number as all color drained from her face.
Her legs gave out. She collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, her carefully applied makeup now grotesque against her ashen skin.
*It's over. We're completely finished.*
Xavier stood frozen, eyes bulging as he stared at the screen in disbelief.
Those confidential ledgers existed only between him and his financial backers. How could Ning—that stupid, manipulated fool—possibly have obtained them?!
"Fake... this has to be fake! Forged documents!"
Xavier's voice cracked into hysteria as he lunged at the screen like a madman, trying to physically block it with his body. "Security! Smash the screen! SMASH IT NOW!"
No one moved.
Who would dare? That screen displayed the national emblem.
Ning stood at the stage edge, one hand casually in her pocket, pointing at that massive number.
"Xavier, sleeping with fans is indeed just a moral issue."
She faced the camera, her voice cold and clinical as a judge reading a sentence.
"But failing to pay seventy-eight million in taxes? That's a *legal* problem."
She tilted her head slightly, her gaze dropping to Lily crumpled on the floor.
"Miss Lin, don't pass out yet. The thirty million you helped him launder through shell companies? I've organized that documentation too."
Her lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile.
"After all, families should stay together."
Lily's eyes rolled back. This time, she genuinely fainted.
In the distance, piercing sirens grew louder, cutting through the studio's false glamour like a blade.
"I've already filed the police report for you. All evidence has been simultaneously uploaded to the Economic Crimes Unit."
Ning watched Xavier's face turn the color of ash, that hint of mockery never leaving her expression.
"Consider it my farewell gift. No need to thank me."
**BANG!**
The studio doors burst open again.
Several uniformed officers strode in with grim expressions, their badges gleaming under the lights.
"Xavier Gu, Lily Lin—you're under arrest for major tax fraud and money laundering. You need to come with us for questioning."
The cold steel handcuffs clicked shut with finality around the wrists fans had once worshipped as "God's hands."
Even as he was dragged away, Xavier thrashed violently, twisting back to spit venomous curses: "Ning Jiang! You'll die a horrible death! The boss won't let you get away with this!"
Ning stood in the spotlight, watching him disappear.
She didn't smile. No victor's pose.
Because the moment those officers entered, the alarm in her mind exploded.
[WARNING! High-intensity data processing consumption critical! Life force plummeting!]
[WARNING! Cardiac load at maximum threshold! Remaining life: 00:05:00.]
[Detecting myocardial ischemia... power supply interrupted...]
Five minutes?
The world tilted violently before Ning's eyes.
The previously clear sounds of cheers and camera shutters transformed into harsh, grating static.
Her heart felt like someone had grabbed it with iron tongs and twisted viciously.
Agony.
Cold sweat instantly soaked through her back.
She wasn't superhuman. This body had been pushed far beyond its limits.
*Can't collapse here...*
Ning bit down hard on her tongue, using that metallic sweetness to cling to consciousness by a thread.
While all cameras focused on Xavier being escorted away, she staggered backward into the shadowy backstage corridor.
One step. Two steps.
Her vision darkened progressively. Each step felt like dancing on knife edges.
Her lungs felt filled with lead. Even breathing tasted of blood.
[System: WARNING! Life force approaching zero! Detecting extremely high-energy source ten meters ahead!]
[Energy purity: SSS-rank!]
[Host, that's your only chance at survival! Even if you have to crawl, get in there and absorb it!]
Only... chance?
Ning could barely process the system's words anymore.
Survival instinct commandeered her body.
She braced against the freezing wall, stumbling desperately toward the closed red mahogany door at the corridor's end—the one marked "VIP GUESTS—NO ENTRY."
Behind that door lay something that could keep her alive.
**CRASH!**
She used her last reserves of strength to slam through the door.
Her body lost balance, pitching forward into darkness.