The clown laughed loudly and said, "Don't worry."

"I'm not that kind of sadistic freak who enjoys torturing people."

"You cheated in our life-and-death game, so I'll start by drilling off one of your hands with this power drill."

"Then, because you cheated and tried to kill your opponent, I hereby sentence you to death!"

As soon as the clown finished speaking, he moved with unbelievable speed. The rapidly spinning drill bit plunged directly into Wang Tao's right palm.

Instantly, the center of his palm was shredded into a bloody pulp, leaving a gaping hole.

Though Wang Tao was a deranged criminal with over a dozen murders to his name, he was still human and could feel pain.

Faced with this level of agony, he immediately began wailing and screaming in torment.

The skin on his face and exposed areas twisted grotesquely from the pain.

Veins bulged violently beneath his skin from the sheer intensity of it.

But Wang Tao was still Wang Tao.

If it had been one of the lab rats undergoing this drilling torture instead,

they would undoubtedly be begging for mercy and crying for help.

He didn't. Despite being in excruciating pain,

he neither screamed for help nor begged for mercy.

Though he desperately wanted to live, he knew all hope was lost.

He had completely fallen into this clown's hands.

Even when he shocked the clown with the stun gun, there had been no reaction. He had lost fair and square.

Since the drill had only penetrated the center of his palm initially, leaving his fingers intact, the clown proceeded to drill through each of Wang Tao's five right fingers.

This elicited another round of soul-rending screams and howls of agony.

These screams should have echoed throughout Alice Apartment,

but unfortunately, Wang Tao's room—like all the psychopaths' rooms—had been specially soundproofed by the apartment management.

After just two drilling sessions, limited to his hand so far,

Wang Tao's mental state had already deteriorated drastically compared to before.

The clown then drilled Wang Tao's right hand eighteen more times.

By now, Wang Tao's right hand—still tightly bound by rope—had been reduced to a pulpy mass of flesh and blood, with even the white bones shattered into fragments.

It was a truly gruesome sight.

"Alright, next I'll drill straight into your heart,"

the clown declared with a hearty laugh.

"Heh... I should never have opened that door..."

Wang Tao mumbled weakly, his head drooping after having one hand completely destroyed.

The clown tilted his head. "It wouldn't have mattered. Even if you hadn't opened the door, I would have broken in to play this life-and-death game with you."

Wang Tao gave a cold chuckle. "Whatever... Before I die, there's one thing I want to know..."

The clown kept his head tilted, smiling. "What is it?"

Wang Tao: "Did you cheat? I refuse to believe your luck was that good..."

The clown laughed. "No, I never cheat."

Wang Tao strained to lift his head and lean it against the chair back.

Though his face still showed pain, there was now a hint of relief in his expression:

"I don't believe you. I'm about to die, and you're still lying to me."

The clown: "I truly never cheat. If you had won this life-and-death game, I would have accepted death willingly."

Wang Tao wanted to curse. If he couldn't win even by cheating, how could he possibly have won?

"Just get it over with."

Wang Tao closed his eyes.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die.

Wang Tao was now experiencing this phenomenon.

Scenes from his entire life played like a movie in his mind.

The childhood friend he'd pushed into the river.

The college goddess and her boyfriend.

His wife, and the two children that weren't his.

The family living upstairs...

Finally, the image that lingered in his mind was that college goddess from his youth...

"Turns out... you were always the one I loved most... loved enough to kill you..."

"How frustrating... to die like this..."

Bzzzzzz.

The drill bit plunged into Wang Tao's chest, effortlessly shredding his heart...

...

Day 2, Round 27.

Mike was smoking on the rooftop of Alice Apartment.

He sipped strong coffee to stay alert.

He hadn't slept all night.

As someone accustomed to all-nighters, staying up wasn't the issue—it was the mental toll this particular night had taken.

It was now 7:00 AM.

The sun had already risen.

Mike took out his phone and dialed a number.

The line rang repeatedly with no answer.

It wasn't until the third attempt that someone finally picked up.

A groggy, half-asleep male voice came through:

"Uh... who is this?"

"It's me, Mike."

"Oh... Mike... What's up? Did you find Zhou Wu and his father?"

"Not yet. I'm calling to ask if you deposited 10,000 yuan into my bank account?"

"That... no..."

"Could it have been Zhou Yan or Li Miguo?"

"Hold on, let me check."

About fifteen minutes passed before the voice returned:

"No, they've been with me this whole time. Neither would know your account number anyway. I just confirmed with them—definitely not them."

"Why do you ask? Something wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Maybe a friend sent it. I'll talk to you later."

Mike hung up and took a deep drag from his cigarette, squinting thoughtfully.

Yesterday, after witnessing Wu You's murder by the chainsaw killer, followed by a team of strangers cleaning up the crime scene before the police arrived,

he had been reeling from everything he'd seen.

Then, shortly after midnight—technically the next day—

he received a text notification about a 10,000 yuan deposit into his account.

The unexpected transfer had left him bewildered.

Who could have sent it?

His first thought was Jimmy and the other two who'd hired him.

He'd tried calling immediately, but there was no answer.

He then contacted other possible senders, though the chances were slim.

All confirmed they hadn't sent any money.

After more failed attempts to reach Jimmy's group, he'd resigned himself to waiting for a callback.

Of course, he never really believed Jimmy's group had sent the money.

But confirmation was necessary.

As a detective, hypothesis testing was fundamental to his work.

From the moment that 10,000 yuan appeared at midnight,

he'd been hypothesizing and analyzing.

Who sent this money?

More importantly—why?

After a whole night of intense deliberation,

and now finally confirming it wasn't from Jimmy,

he'd mostly pieced it together.

He just needed to verify a few more things to confirm his theory.