The Blade-Wielding Legend-Chapter 1369 - 708: Torture in the Cell
"Master, Kong the Immortal Master has fallen!"
Wang She’s knees weakened, "thud" he knelt on the ground, his forehead tightly pressed against the cold floor tiles, his voice trembling with fear.
Zhao Qingxu slowly turned his body, that featureless pale mask faced him, the voice devoid of emotion:
"Are you very afraid?"
Even in this secluded courtyard, facing his only confidant, that eerie mask remained unmoving on his face.
The voice also seemed to be muffled, as though separated by an invisible barrier, making it indistinguishable from male or female.
"I... I..."
Wang She shivered all over, wishing he could bury his head in the ground, never to see that mask again.
In the eyes of outsiders, he was a formidable, ruthless Incense Master in the Iron Anchor Association, but in front of this Evil God, he couldn’t even speak properly.
A very faint chuckle seemed to emanate from behind the mask.
Zhao Qingxu no longer looked at him, instead leisurely turning around, picked up the green porcelain kettle on the table, watering the Flat Peach tree bonsai unhurriedly.
The water flowed between the strange rocks, making a gentle sound.
"I remember you back then, you weren’t this cowardly."
"Holding a chipped knife, you dared to break into the Ministry of Justice Prison, knowing you were outmatched, yet still leaving a few cuts on me..."
"Where did that reckless fierceness go?"
With troubles impending, still talking about these old stories!
Wang She seethed inwardly, but dared not show a trace outwardly, only replying in acknowledgment: "I... don’t know."
Zhao Qingxu sighed and put down the kettle, "Once a person gains something, they fear losing it, even their bones soften."
Wang She felt even more bewildered, completely unable to grasp the depth of these words, forcing himself to ask:
"M... Master, what exactly... do you mean?"
Zhao Qingxu finally turned fully, the smooth, cold surface of the mask facing Wang She, the voice suddenly turned icy, "All these years I’ve elevated you, given you authority, taught you Martial Arts, what I valued was your fearless courage!"
He paused, the invisible pressure suddenly increased:
"You’re very aware, I never make losing trades."
"You!"
Wang She’s mind alarmed, as though an ice spike pierced his spine!
All doubts instantly transformed into tangible fear.
Almost instinctively, he didn’t even have time to change his kneeling stance, he suddenly exerted force underfoot, his body like an arrow shot out.
He wasn’t inept, under Zhao Qingxu’s Evil Skill’s rapid growth, he was at least a capable pugilistic hand who had entered Dan Strength.
This leap was like a rabbit, swift as lightning.
As he was about to lose balance, another Kite Flipping movement, faced toward the courtyard door.
After all, nearby residents were still around, court soldiers patrolled the distant streets.
As long as he could leave, there was a chance of survival.
However, just as his right hand was less than half a foot from the door, Wang She suddenly froze completely.
An indescribable, marrow-deep chill suddenly swept over his entire body.
Thud—!
The whole person dropped straight onto the cold ground like a puppet with cut strings.
He wanted to struggle but found that he couldn’t even move a finger.
His entire body’s muscles and tendons seemed tightly bound by invisible chains, leaving only his torso shivering violently as if in a seizure.
The next scene was even more chilling:
His skin popped up like the surface of boiling water, instantly covered in large patches of hives.
These hives swiftly spread and inflated as if alive, the surface became blood-red and transparent, bizarrely manifesting distinct, twisted square-holed Copper Coin patterns, crawling all over his body in the blink of an eye.
Snap—!
The crisp sound of a folding fan opening came from behind.
Zhao Qingxu leisurely flipped open the fan, the striking large "money" character seemed to glow with a blood-light in the dim courtyard.
"Everything comes at a price."
"The things given to you, now with principal and interest, must be reclaimed..."
Wang She could no longer hear any words, the bizarre itch deep in his bones, the soul-piercing pain like a tidal wave destroyed his consciousness.
In a daze, he saw the blue robe slowly approaching, squatting down.
Then, he only felt darkness before his eyes.
That cold, lifeless pale mask had already tightly covered his face...
......
Xuan Sacrificial Officer Prison, High-security death row cell.
This was the place specially used by the Law Enforcement Hall to detain and interrogate major offenders.
The air was so heavy it could be wrung out, mixed with the years of blood scent seeped into the stone walls, bitter smell of shoddy injury medicine, and an even more hidden rot and decay similar to creeping out from an ancient tomb deep inside, making one nauseous.
The torches on the walls crackled, a scar-faced black-clad officer walked with his head down.
His name was "Old Blade," thirty years in the criminal justice profession, listed in Capital’s Six Gates, Military Department, known as "Living Yama."
In cases in his hands, there was no mouth he couldn’t pry open, no signature couldn’t be got.
But today’s case, was different.
The cell door slid open heavily, the dragging of heavy chains was ear-piercing.
"Old Blade" stepped inside, his boots landed on the cold stone bricks, almost without sound.
He silently glanced around the surroundings.
All the walls were cast in cold iron, specially engraved with incantations, with dark red congealed vermillion embedded in the engravings.
This was called "Soul Destruction Talisman," as soon as the criminal dies, their soul dissipates completely.
A Magician who could perform Yin Soul Patrol was no exception, simply no chance to cause mischief.
On the heavy cross-shaped iron frame, Kong Hui was firmly bound.
This Grandmaster from the Great Song Period, was now in a state resembling a fierce ghost.
His arms twisted grotesquely, the arm bones shattered by Huo Yin’s punch, rudely fixed only with dirty burlap and wooden boards.
Scabs and pus adhered to the cloth patches, emitting a foul odor.
Two penetrating blood holes beneath the collarbones, thumb-thick chains threaded through, extending to the iron rings in the corner of the walls.
