I Have 10 Trillion Dollars only Usable For Simping Chapter 2087 - 1345: You Don’t Feel Sorry; You’re Just Afraid of Death

"Looks like your recollection is pretty decent."

Xu Kuan commended, "These are the females you assaulted. The youngest one among them was only a high school girl. Traumatized from the attack by her idol, she suffered a mental breakdown and feared sharing it with her relatives, so at merely fifteen or sixteen years old, she plunged from the Han River Bridge, terminating her promising young existence..."

"Rubbish! Defamation! Pure defamation!"

In contrast to Boss Jiang, back in Lan Peizhi's time, Xu Kuan had already been employed in Korea, making Korean speech no issue for him.

"If I did it, why hasn't the authorities taken me in?!"

Liu Junxiang's gaze reddened; he no longer resembled the charming performer but rather a ferocious creature.

"That's because you're the lead of a trending boy group, the golden goose for MS. Next to you, a mere high school girl holds no value — her passing is worthless."

Beside Xu Kuan, Zhu Xuan rested her palms on her legs, gripping her fingers firmly.

"This schoolgirl is merely one case. Leveraging your celebrity status and power, you and your group inflicted harm on numerous others through such acts, employing force or coercion alike. Certain victims opted for suicide, others endured lifelong mental and bodily scars, while those who fought back ended up confined in psychiatric facilities, labeled as deranged."

"Scoundrel! Scoundrel!!!"

Liu Junxiang raged, poised to lunge forward like a savage beast.

The fabrications cause no pain; reality delivers the piercing strike.

Should it be a setup, such frenzy wouldn't grip him.

"You've certainly led a fulfilling existence."

Observing the opponent's grin and quiet stare, the frenzied Liu Junxiang sensed a chilling splash, slowly regaining composure.

A hunter recognizes a superior hunter most acutely.

"Zhu Xuan, help me out! Everything's on me, just rescue me! I'll reform and make amends to those victims; I plead with you, offer me an opportunity..."

Abruptly, he surged with remarkable force, or maybe the guards restraining him eased up deliberately, letting him snap loose from the seat and drop to his knees, sobbing profusely with mucus and tears.

Xu Kuan fell silent.

"Zhu Xuan, we matured side by side, acquainted for over twenty years; your grandma, your uncle, your aunt, they all adored me greatly, Zhu Xuan..."

"How did you turn into this..."

Zhu Xuan's gaze drifted aimlessly.

"I erred, I went insane, I swear off repeating it, grant me a shot at making reparations, I'll dedicate my leftover years to penance!"

While uttering this, he commenced banging his head repeatedly on the ground, even with bound wrists.

At last, you grasp atonement and the art of submission and pleas.

Back in the changing area, the opposition had plainly extended him an opening.

Zhu Xuan's eyes gradually sharpened, the vacant look on her impeccable features steadily giving way to resolve and detachment.

She glanced toward the terrace and nodded negatively at the building opposite.

"You aren't truly remorseful; you merely sense your end approaching."

Xu Kuan swiveled his gaze, his eyes gleaming.

Liu Junxiang, midway through his nonstop head-banging, halted abruptly, lifting his face in shock as scarlet blood dripped from his fractured brow.

"Sign this."

A sheet of paper extended forth.

Text crammed thickly across its surface.

To his surprise.

It amounted to an admission.

Or more precisely.

A testament.

"No, no..."

Terror seized Liu Junxiang, his head shaking wildly as he scooted backward on the ground in panic, though it was evidently the route he had selected.

His digits were forced apart, stained with the blood from his brow, and a print was stamped onto the document.

Afterward, his mouth received a gag once more, and he was hoisted upright.

"Miss Jin."

Xu Kuan declared.

Zhu Xuan rose quietly, pivoted, and proceeded to the exit alongside Xu Kuan.

From the rear.

Liu Junxiang, with eyes protruding in fright and hopelessness, was raised powerlessly, the loop sliding over his throat, prepared in advance.

"Thunk."

With the abrupt release of support, as he dropped and the cord halted him, Liu Junxiang dangled from above, his form twisting wildly amid the thrashing, bit by bit losing vigor.

Once silence returned, he dangled with drooped head, still in the atmosphere, oriented toward the terrace previously out of sight.

In the facing residence, the sealed drapes appeared to flutter faintly.