After all, with Cauchy setting the precedent, any Omega with a bit of ability was eager to get into military academies.

Chris thought the boy must have his own brilliant artistic dreams.

"A+?" Yabo Lun gritted his teeth. Was this guy mocking him? Yabo Lun himself had SS-level mental strength, and he knew he absolutely couldn't withstand the transmission lines of so many shock devices.

Suddenly, his expression changed, and his voice became strange, "Art school? Oh, that means your physique is at most a C."

Upon hearing this, the boy's eyes widened.

Yabren laughed and turned around, throwing the whip from yesterday back to Chris.

Chris's hand holding the whip paused almost imperceptibly.

The next round of whippings began. Yabron did not allow Chris to remove the transmitter of the shock device, because physical and mental torture would be more cruel and exciting.

The mental shock device still had a slight effect on the boy's body. When Chris lashed out with his whip, the boy, who usually gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound, couldn't help but let out a muffled groan.

Although the boy swallowed his cry of pain in time, the alluring hum he let out for a moment was as captivating as the song of a siren. Combined with his fair, translucent skin, the blood-soaked wound, and his disheveled, alluring black hair, it was an absolutely stunning sight.

The space pirates watching the execution all wore expressions of fascination.

Yabren leaned back in his chair, looking quite pleased. He first raised a finger to silence any potential noise around him, then instructed Chris, "Go harder, I want to hear his lovely voice."

Chris tightened his grip on the whip, almost crushing the handle.

This young man, who has persevered for his country until now, should not suffer such humiliation.

The sound of the whip cracking grew more rapid with Yabren's commands, and a thought surfaced in Chris's mind, pulling him into an abyss.

Wasn't it him, the one who did even worse things to the boy and caused Jora so much pain, the one known as the protector of the Federation?

Chris continued to whip him like an emotionless machine, but his heart felt like it was being squeezed, and the dizziness from lack of oxygen controlled his brain.

The boy's eyes were bright; Chris could even see the most beautiful night sky in the Federation reflected in them. But now he was about to subject the owner of such beautiful eyes to inhuman torture.

The interrogation room was completely silent, except for the sound of the whip striking flesh. The boy truly endured it, not uttering a single sound.

However, even the boy's breathing sounded incredibly alluring to these space pirates.

In contrast, the imperial prisoners behind Qingyun stared intently at the resilient young man before them. Their bodies, which had been slumped over for so long, gradually straightened. They held their heads high, chests out, their gazes firm—the posture of Federation soldiers.

The boy's persistence seemed to have rekindled the faith in their hearts.

This interrogation was exceptionally long for Chris; it felt as if he were the one being tied up and whipped, his heart seemingly roasted over a fire.

The boy before me was unexpectedly strong; new wounds covered the old ones, making his already battered body even more fragile.

Blood mixed with sweat clung to his black hair, and his lips were bitten so hard they were a bright red, the color of blood.

During the eight-hour beating, the boy didn't shed a single tear, didn't utter a sound, and even strained to keep himself from collapsing from exhaustion. His eyes, filled with pride and disdain, stared straight into Chris's.

It was as if she was saying to him, "Come on, let's see if I can hold on?"

Chris didn't know what kind of strength he used to wield the whip, or what kind of strength he used to control the trembling of his hands.

All he knew was that he couldn't fail.

The boy persisted in this way, so he could not afford to fail.

Finally, the interrogation ended, the sound of the whip cracking disappeared, and only the boy's low breathing remained.

Because the whipping was so powerful, several of the transmission cables behind Qingyun's head broke free, and the cables, along with raven-feather-like strands of hair and a small piece of blood-stained scalp, fell off.

Chris stepped forward and reconnected the transmission cable to the back of the boy's head. He used all his strength to restrain himself from reaching out and gently stroking the boy's soft black hair.

He should have... offered words of encouragement and comfort to this passionate and proud young man.

"I'll bring you some more little trinkets tomorrow." Yabo Lun walked out with a satisfied look on his face. He hoped the boy would keep going; shouldn't this aesthetically pleasing interrogation continue?

Chris followed Yabolen out without looking back at Qingyun.

His steps remained as meticulously calculated as at the beginning, each step precise, but his hands, hidden at his sides, were clenched into tight fists.

He learned for the first time what "torture" meant.

The war between the Federation and the Flamingos has dragged on for a long time, and the Federation army, which used to have the upper hand, is now in complete disarray.

Because Chris played.

"Damn it!" General Lucas of the Second Army slammed his fist on the table, his brows furrowed deeply. "Let those old bastards in the council try it themselves? Damn it, that's Chris, that fighting machine, how am I supposed to beat him!"

With a gentle expression, Kossie ran his long fingers through Lucas's hair, soothing his emotions.

Today, the Second and Fourth Legions joined forces and launched an attack, outnumbering the Flamingos by more than ten times, but they were still defeated. Chris led the space pirates toying with them like cats and mice, leaving them powerless to fight back.

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