The rain didn't fall hard, but it was steady—constant enough to soak the cuffs of Lin Jian's trousers as he crossed the courthouse steps. A light drizzle, not worth an umbrella. He didn't bother shielding himself. He was already too far into the storm.
Inside the courtroom, the trial of the century was reaching its final act.
People called him *The Black Verdict*. Some said it with admiration. Others spat the words like poison. Either way, Lin Jian had earned the title. A genius defense attorney with an undefeated record, he had danced through the highest courts, untangled the dirtiest scandals, and served under the empire's most powerful ministries. When corruption needed covering or secrets needed burying, they sent him.
But now the empire wanted him dead.
He knew it.
Not because someone told him. Not because he'd received a warning. But because he understood the system—and he knew how expendable someone like him truly was.
This case—**People vs Zheng Financial**—was unwinnable. Not just legally, but politically. Too many important names were tied to it. The empire needed a scapegoat. One last use for their sharpest blade. They had handed him a burning sword and expected him to swing it once more before it consumed him.
That's how the empire worked. Use, discard, silence.
He had played their game for years.
This time, he'd rewrite the rules.
---
The courtroom air was stiff with tension. The prosecution's witness stumbled, her timeline crumbling under Lin Jian's cold, surgical questions. His tone remained polite, his expression unreadable, but the judge's fingers were twitching, already sensing something shifting beneath the surface.
But Lin Jian didn't care about the verdict. He already knew the outcome.
Not of the trial—but of the night.
For the last months, he had moved pieces into place: data leaks, anonymous tips, offshore backups, encrypted drives stashed in lockboxes across cities. He hadn't just built a defense. He had built a noose—tight enough to hang everyone who had ever tried to use him.
And all of it was timed to go off only if one condition was met: his death.
---
That night, after the courthouse emptied and the cameras shut off, Lin Jian returned to his mansion…
It was clean. Quiet. Controlled. Just as he liked it.
He poured a glass of whiskey, sat in the study by the tall arched window, and gazed out over the quiet, rain-slicked garden. Beyond the trees, the faint hum of the distant city barely reached him—just a dull flicker of lights on the horizon, like a world he had already left behind. Somewhere out there, the empire thought it was watching him. But he had left them only shadows to follow.
He checked his watch. **10:41 p.m.**
The time didn't matter. What mattered was the silence. The calm before the final move.
He'd accepted it. There would be no last-minute escape. No hidden bodyguards. No sudden reversal in court.
The sacrifice had to be real. His death had to be real. It was the only way the machine would eat itself.
Because Lin Jian had learned one thing from chess:
— "If victory is impossible, the only move left is to flip the board."
---
He heard the elevator hum outside.
A quiet knock came at the front door
He didn't move to answer.
The door slowly creaked open — it had been left unlocked.
Lin Jian turned his head slightly, just enough to see the man step inside. Black gloves. Blank expression. No words. No insignia.
He smiled faintly, as if greeting an old rival.
"You think I'm the last loose end," he said, his voice calm, thoughtful. "But I was the lock that kept the vault closed. Open it, and everything spills out."
He turned away and began walking slowly toward his chair near the window. The study was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a vintage lamp.
He sat down with elegance, no rush. Lifted his whiskey glass. Took a sip, letting the silence stretch.
The man who had entered gave a small, formal bow — not out of respect, but as if completing a contract.
A single, muffled shot followed.
Lin Jian slumped in the chair, the drink still in his hand, eyes open, that faint smile untouched.
And just like that, Lin Jian… — no, Lin Yanzhen, the blade of the empire — ceased to exist.
---
**Darkness.**
Then—
---
**\[End of Chapter 1]**
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