The woman had only intended to flirt and tease—but she had just ignited a wildfire.

She took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, then curled her lips into a seductive smile. Without hesitation, she stepped around the table, straddled Tang Yulan’s lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck, her gaze locking onto his with intoxicating intensity.

Tang Yulan’s face flushed slightly, and he instinctively leaned back—but the woman followed, her voice a sultry whisper against his ear:

"Little handsome, how have you been surviving these three years without a woman?"

"Three years..." Tang Yulan’s body trembled slightly, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

Three years ago, to avenge his fallen comrade, he had violated military protocol, crossed the border, and slaughtered thirty-six mercenaries—violating another nation’s sovereignty in the process. The international backlash had been catastrophic.

At his military tribunal, he refused to confess, declaring coldly: "Those who do wrong must pay the price. I have no regrets for avenging my brother. I’ve done nothing wrong." Under relentless interrogation, he uttered not a single word.

The verdict was swift and brutal: Contempt of court, violation of military discipline, premeditated murder, deliberate provocation of war, and incitement of international conflict. His military status was revoked, all political rights stripped, and he was sentenced to life imprisonment without parole.

"A man like you doesn’t belong in a place like this," the woman purred, her voice dripping with honeyed poison. "You defied the entire military justice system—they’ll never let you go. But if you admit your guilt, show remorse, there’s still a chance... freedom, reinstatement, even redemption." Her lips brushed his earlobe as she spoke.

Freedom. Beauty. The promise of reinstatement and the erasure of his shame.

Three years in solitary confinement had left Tang Yulan starved for all three. The monotony was suffocating, the isolation maddening. Any normal man would crack under such pressure, abandoning his principles for a sliver of relief.

But Tang Yulan was no ordinary man.

The woman’s body pressed against his, and suddenly—her hand was on him.

Damn it. A surge of fury ignited in Tang Yulan’s chest. With a grunt, he seized her shoulders, lifted her onto the table, and spread her legs—though the shackles made the motion awkward.

The woman’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she smirked: "Brother Tang, just sign the papers. Once you do, this body is yours. Besides, General He’s health is failing. Without his protection, how long do you think you’ll last?"

"What?! Old Chief?!" Tang Yulan’s expression darkened drastically.

"Terminal lung cancer. He doesn’t have much time left," the woman said, pausing to let the words sink in. storm raged in Tang Yulan’s mind. General He had been his benefactor, shielding him from the consequences of his actions time and again. Without the old man’s support, his sentence would’ve been far harsher—execution, not life imprisonment. The prison wouldn’t have been this "comfortable."

"Give me a cigarette. I need to think," he said flatly.

The woman smirked in triumph and gestured toward the surveillance camera. Moments later, a guard slid open the door, delivering a pack of "God of War" cigarettes—military-issue, laced with syrup for a sweet aftertaste and mild pain relief.

"Sign here," she said, sliding the confession papers across the table.

Tang Yulan picked them up, chuckled bitterly—and then ripped them to shreds.

"What?!" The woman lunged forward, but it was too late.

The playful smirk vanished from Tang Yulan’s face, replaced by ruthless precision. Like an arrow loosed from its bow, he slammed his palms on the table, launched himself into the air, twisted mid-flight, and landed behind her—shackles and all.

Unbelievable. The chains should’ve slowed him down, yet he moved like a phantom. The woman paled, turning to flee—but the cold steel of his shackles wrapped around her throat before she could take a step.

"W-what are you doing?" she gasped.

"Thanking you," Tang Yulan murmured, stroking her cheek before delivering a brutal knife-hand strike to the back of her head. She groaned and collapsed unconscious.

With lightning speed, he yanked a ballpoint pen from his pocket, ignited a lighter, and melted the tip to shape it into an impromptu lockpick. Just as the plastic began to soften—click!—the handcuffs snapped open.

BANG! The interrogation room door exploded inward as two guards stormed in, guns drawn.

"Halt—"

The first guard’s words were cut short as Tang Yulan hurled the freed handcuffs like a meteor. The metal slammed into the man’s skull, blood spraying across the floor.

The second guard raised his weapon—but Tang Yulan was already upon him. One hand seized his wrist, the other drove into his armpit, and with a roar of fury, Tang Yulan hurled him three meters into the wall, the impact shaking the entire corridor.

Damn it—he was still wearing twenty pounds of chains!

Time was running out. As the guards’ shouts echoed outside, Tang Yulan ducked behind the door and worked feverishly to free his ankles. The moment the shackles clattered to the ground, the distant wail of sirens and the thunder of approaching footsteps reached his ears.

Three years of confinement—finally over. His narrowed eyes flared with renewed ferocity, like an ancient dragon awakening from its slumber.

Gripping the steel door of the interrogation room, Tang Yulan planted his feet and ripped it from its hinges with a single, earth-shaking heave. Concrete crumbled around the frame as the door tore free, dust and debris exploding outward.

The guards outside froze, their faces pale with terror.

Tang Yulan raised the massive steel door like a shield and stepped out into the hallway—ready for war.