The richest man's parents were kidnapped, and his adorable son captivated the entire family.

Xie Yumin didn't say much, but simply pressed the confirmation command on her phone.

Seconds later, a huge advance payment was transferred to the address designated by Lao Gui via a cryptocurrency cold wallet, the path of which was untraceable.

At the same time, Lao Gui's men also began to act in secret.

They quietly appeared near old apartment buildings on the city's outskirts, cafes in blind spots of surveillance, and small repair shops, splitting up to investigate the equipment and routes that the perpetrators might use to take photos.

Another group delved into sealed archives and underground networks to find "Ye Qing," who had vanished overnight, leaving behind countless mysteries, and her design studio, which she had briefly operated but mysteriously dissolved.

A pursuit without gunfire has quietly begun.

Xie Yumin has been in this safe house for three whole days.

This was a small, rented suburban apartment. The curtains were always drawn, and the light was dim. The walls were yellowed, the furniture was sparse, and the air was filled with a damp and musty smell. The apartment wasn't big, but she checked every window and every door lock more than ten times.

She sat on the sofa, her eyes fixed on the spare phone in her hand.

It was an old-fashioned flip phone, completely unrelated to her main communication device. It was never connected to the internet and was only used to receive "security signals".

As agreed with Lao Gui, he was supposed to send a specific classified ad link via an encrypted email address before last night—it was their unique coded system.

However, the mailbox was empty.

Undeterred, she repeatedly refreshed the page, but the encrypted client remained silent, showing no recognizable signals.

A chilling unease rose from the depths of her heart. She abruptly stood up, turned around, and returned to her desk, quickly typing an emergency number into her spare notebook.

That was a one-time contact number used exclusively by the old ghost, only for missions, and would be destroyed once connected.

But all they heard was, "The user you dialed is currently unavailable."

Her expression immediately changed.

She bit her lower lip and tried to call the contact information of three of Old Ghost's men, each of whom was a professional with highly sophisticated stealth skills in their respective fields.

But in the end, none of the calls went through.

It's either switched off or says "temporarily unavailable".

Xie Yumin slowly put down her phone, her hand was cold and her knuckles were white.

It was not a coincidence, not a bad signal, and not a missed contact.

She knew perfectly well that Old Ghost's team was always meticulous to an almost obsessive degree. They wouldn't lose contact at the same time, much less miss the scheduled signal.

The only explanation is that they were exposed after getting close to a key clue.

Furthermore, they may have already encountered a serious misfortune.

She felt as if she had been punched hard; her body went limp, and she slumped into the chair.

My breathing became rapid, my heart pounded, and cold sweat instantly soaked through my clothes.

The clock on the wall ticked away, like the hands of a death countdown, urging her nerves to tighten second by second.

She wasn't unaware of the risks, but she never imagined that her opponent would be so swift, decisive, and thorough.

At this moment, she gripped the now useless spare phone tightly, her knuckles digging into her palm, but only one thought echoed in her mind:

The enemy behind her was far more powerful, ruthless, and insidious than she had imagined.

She felt as if she had been thrown into a huge, bottomless black well, with no way out and the light above her head gradually going out.

The disappearance of Lao Gui was not only the end of the clues, but also the collapse of her last line of defense.

Her gaze slowly swept out the window. The night was dark and oppressive, the dark clouds heavy as iron. Occasionally, a few blinding car lights would flash by in the distance, but there was no real warmth to be found.

She suddenly realized that those eyes hidden behind her had never left her, and that she had never truly been "safe".

For the first time in her life, she was completely enveloped by true despair and helplessness.

Meanwhile, in another prime urban location, a desperate gamble is quietly underway, unknown to anyone.

In the VIP meeting room of a private bank located on the top floor of the financial district, Gu Yinshen sat in the main seat, dressed in a sharp suit with a slightly disheveled collar.

His face was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but his eyes remained calm and sharp.

Even after falling from the peak to the bottom, his spine remained straight and unwavering.

Across from me, a private bank manager surnamed Zhang sat extremely cautiously, holding a thick asset valuation document in his hands, his expression troubled and uneasy.

“Mr. Gu,” he turned a few pages, looked up, and spoke carefully, “the market valuation of your ‘Cloud Top’ estate, the ‘Starry Sea’ penthouse, and those few collectible oil paintings is indeed very considerable.”

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression, "But the Gu family's current situation... is probably close to the red line in our bank's internal risk rating."

He lightly tapped the form with his fingertip: "According to the rules and regulations, this mortgage can only be up to 50% of your rights."

"I'm sorry, this is the system's judgment, not my personal will."

Gu Yinshen remained silent.

He slowly sat up straight, placed his hands on the table, and looked calmly at Manager Zhang. He spoke slowly and deliberately, in a low voice:

"Sixty percent. Manager Zhang, I know the rules and understand your risk control measures."

"But this is not a business deal."

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp as a blade, fixed intently on the other person's eyes:

"This is saving my life."

“I’m not trying to inject money into the entire Gu Group. I know the group is a black hole right now, but this money will be directly injected into the joint account of the ‘Tiangong Kaiwu’ project team and ‘Huanyu Logistics’.”

“You can appoint a fund supervisor, and I will sign a dual approval agreement.”

"I only seek to stabilize two core aspects: ensuring that the technology does not collapse and that logistics continues uninterrupted."

As he spoke, his voice grew slightly hoarse, yet increasingly resolute:

"This is the only way I can preserve the Gu family's lifeline and its last remaining assets."

Manager Zhang still looked troubled, as if he was struggling.

Gu Yinshen's gaze was piercing, and a tired yet calm smile curved his lips:

“You know, Manager Zhang. If even these two cornerstones collapse…”

He raised his hand and tapped the asset list, each word spoken with a mixture of despair and clear-headed calm:

"Then the Gu family is truly finished."

"By then, how much will my collateral be worth?"

He paused, his voice low but carrying an authoritative certainty:

"Are you right?"

Manager Zhang's fingers tapped slowly on the folder cover, his brows furrowed deeply.

He did not answer immediately, but fell into a long period of contemplation, his eyes repeatedly scrutinizing Gu Yinshen's face.

The face opposite him, once radiant on the cover of a financial magazine, now looked weary, with bloodshot eyes, yet still exuded a powerful aura of pressure. He wasn't aggressive, nor was he begging; instead, with an almost desperate yet extremely rational attitude, he laid out all his cards.