The Death of Jessica Akio!

The cacophony of gunfire reverberated through the affluent district of Credence, sending shivers down the spine of the city's mobile team leader stationed a hundred meters away. As his light brain chip flickered to life, he hastily answered, anxiety lacing his voice. "Chief Zack, Clarke Higilton has been inside the Akio residence for over ten minutes, and I've heard gunshots. I fear there may be casualties..."

The voice on the other end was cold and authoritative, belonging to a middle-aged man in a crisp military uniform. "I'm liaising with the Higilton family's upper echelon. This seems like Clarke's unilateral action. It's too brash, too conspicuous, not the Higilton family's usual modus operandi."

The city official faltered, his mind racing. If this was indeed Clarke acting alone, what could his endgame be? "Terence is not a lawless land," the military man continued, "and with major corporations overseeing, how could they brazenly commit murder in broad daylight without fearing public backlash?"

Meanwhile, Clarke Higilton stood amidst the chaos at the Akio residence, occasionally glancing at the time, seemingly waiting for something.

Jack approached him hesitantly. "Mr. Higilton, the Akios have agreed to the marriage. Why continue this...?"

"Do I look like someone who breaks his word?" Clarke replied with a sly grin.

Jack nodded, uncertain.

"It's simple," Clarke explained softly. "Mark Akio claimed ignorance about Alexander scheme. But how did he know about Alexander hiring a 'third party' to kill me? Neither I nor Charles Akio mentioned it."

Realization dawned on Jack. "So that's how it is..."

White Shark, overhearing the conversation, gave Jack a knowing look, signaling him to remain quiet.

Clarke, unfazed, glanced at the immobile city mobile team in the distance. "This operation is concluded. You can leave via the Rapid Reaction Force's vehicles. Don't worry, everything here is under control. No one knows your identities except me."

"Understood," White Shark replied, his casual demeanor replaced by newfound respect for Clarke. He made no mention of the remaining payment, but Clarke, true to his word, transferred the promised amount.

As Clarke boarded a floating car to return home, he mused, "The Higilton family must have heard by now. Given their influence in Credence, it's impossible they're unaware of these events."

His prediction proved accurate. His chip was soon inundated with calls, including those from the Higilton family and Akiko herself. Unexpectedly, the armored vehicle changed course, flying out of the city without his consent. The android soldiers inside the vehicle turned to him, their expressions now wary.

Clarke's eyes narrowed. He could already envision the upcoming scenario, being forcibly taken back to the family estate to face the repercussions of his actions. The weight of his choices hung heavily in the air, a testament to the complex web of family politics and personal vendettas in which he was entangled.

As Clarke Higilton contemplated the unfolding situation, a plan began to take shape in his mind. He glanced at the android soldiers beside him, his eyes flashing with a gray electric light.

In an instant, the androids holstered their weapons. "As I thought, I can control androids by embedding a code that compels them to obey my commands," he mused. These emotionless machines, bound by protocol, were far easier to manipulate than humans.

Choosing to ignore the calls from his father, Clarke instead connected to Jessica's call.

"Clarke Higilton, I just received a marriage notification. What's this about? You owe me an explanation!" Jessica face, usually innocent and beautiful, was now contorted with anger. "And why can't I reach my father? What have you done?"

"It's a minor matter," Clarke replied nonchalantly. "By the way, I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" Jessica scoffed. "What can you possibly give me? I expected something worth at least a million. If you want to marry me, prepare at least 100 million, or forget it!"

"One hundred million?" Clarke raised an eyebrow. "Is your worth gold-plated?"

Jessica eyes widened in shock, unable to believe Clarke's audacity. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

Clarke remained expressionless. "I know my worth. Do you really think I'd marry someone like you?"

Jessica anger surged. "No one has ever spoken to me like that! You're disgusting, vile..."

Before she could continue, Clarke raised his hand in a gesture mimicking a gunshot.

"Bang."

Jessica's furious expression froze. She looked down to see a wound on her left arm, blood seeping out. Her light brain chip clattered to the floor.

A sharp pain surged through her as she clutched her arm, staring in disbelief at the chip displaying Clarke's cold gaze.

"Bang."

Another wound appeared, this time on her shoulder.

Screaming, Jessica tried to flee, but another "bang" caused her leg to buckle, sending her tumbling to the ground. Panic replaced her anger, tears streaming down her face. "It hurts! What are you doing? Why...?"

"Bang."

Another wound opened on her chest.

"Please... don't kill me, Higilton," she begged, desperation coloring her voice. "I'll do anything... I'll marry you..."

"I was using just 1 unit of psionic code. Let's try 10 units," Clarke spoke, as if to himself, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Bang."

As the word left his lips, Jessica once beautiful face was obliterated, a grotesque mix of blood and tissue frozen in a horrific tableau.

Jessica was dead.

Clarke terminated the communication, his face a mask of contemplation. The gravity of his actions hung heavily in the air, marking a pivotal moment in his life, one that would undoubtedly have far-reaching consequences.

In a dramatic departure from his previous, more direct use of psionic energy, Clarke Higilton had now refined his method into something far more sophisticated and technical.

During a late-night experiment with a virtual screen, an idea had struck him: if psionic energy could be transmitted through networks and screens to distant locations beyond the line of sight, could it be possible to harness this method for lethal purposes beyond visual range? This realization led to the recent incident.

Clarke had managed to write psionic energy into a complex string of code, allowing it to manifest directly in front of the target, bypassing the constraints of the network, then reverting to a state of physical interference. This intricate process was a testament to his genius.

Previously, he had painstakingly composed this code while traversing the wasteland back to Borderless City. The code was intricate, designed not only to travel through the network to the target's optical brain but also to automatically delete communication records before activation, erasing traces from the server itself.

With his hacker skills, Clarke had prepared one hundred and fifty of these codes. Each consumed 10 units of psionic energy, but his recent expansion of the imaginary space had allowed him to accumulate substantial reserves. With the imaginary synaptic space now capable of housing 100,000 people daily, and each person generating an average of one-tenth of a unit of emotional value, Clarke could produce approximately 1,000 units of psionic energy per day. Thus, the energy required for these codes was easily within his grasp.

However, there was a limitation: unlike digital codes that could replicate, psionic codes could not duplicate themselves due to their inherent consumption of psionic energy. This was a minor setback, as squandering psionic energy could decelerate the expansion of his imaginary space.

As Clarke contemplated the future prospects of psionic technology research, he was interrupted by another vibration from his wrist. It was his father, Phill Higilton, the patriarch of the Higilton family.

Upon answering, he was immediately confronted with his father's stern visage. "What have you done? I've been informed of your assault on the Akio residence," his father demanded.

"Yes, father," Clarke replied calmly. "They attacked me last night. I had to defend myself."

The incredulity in his father's voice was evident. Before he could delve further, other voices interjected skeptically, questioning the Akio family's audacity to attack a Higilton.

When Clarke learned that the entire family was gathered for the annual festival, an idea sparked in his mind. With a mischievous chuckle, he assured his father of a full explanation.

Suddenly, the call was cut off, and the large screen at the family venue, intended for the festival celebrations, flickered to life unexpectedly. The entire Higilton family, gathered for the event, looked on in surprise.

A giant holographic projection of Clarke appeared, dominating the screen. "Greetings to my esteemed father and beloved family members," he announced, his image casting an imposing presence over the venue.

"I am Clarke Higilton."

In that moment, Clarke Higilton had boldly positioned himself at the center of the family's attention, ready to unveil his side of the story in a way that would be remembered for years to come.