This story chronicles Old Zeng, a man who loves inventing. He wakes up one day to find himself in Prison No. 79, a place teeming with villains and governed by a completely different set of rules. T...
Zhou Bao stepped forward and went straight towards the prisoner. His sudden action caught Shangguan Zai's attention.
Bang!
A bullet hit near Zhou Bao, and the sudden gunshot startled Zhou Bao.
"Fatty, you'd better stay away when I'm giving a lecture." Shangguan Zai looked cold and merciless on the battlefield.
Zhou Bao twitched his lips and said, "Brother Qi told me something. Didn't he tell you?"
"What's the matter?" Shangguan Zai asked subconsciously.
"Brother Qi told me not to ask any questions and just to carry out the order. How about you give him a call?" Zhou Bao spread his hands, indicating that he was also doing his job.
This made Shangguan Zai speechless.
"Just stand aside and wait until I've dealt with you before I take action. If you keep making noise, I'll beat you up, do you believe I do?" Shangguan Zai said with a warning look on his face.
Upon hearing this, Zhou Bao was so angry that his teeth ached and he could only stand back silently. He wanted to complain a few words in his heart, but when he remembered that he was here to learn, he felt relieved.
It must be said that when Shangguan Xiao'er showed off his power, even he had to give himself a break. This wasn't just pretense, but rather a long-cultivated aura that made it difficult for anyone to disobey him. Zhou Bao muttered to himself.
Next, all members of the Waste Mercenary Group took action, leaving behind selected hostages to write down their experiences, and the remaining captives were the park's lackeys.
Dealing with lackeys is much easier. Every evildoer will be punished by his own evildoer.
In order to reduce the influx of crime into the country, Secretary Wang assigned a special forces team overnight, who came in disguise.
In the dark and damp interrogation room, there was a disgusting smell of blood.
As many as five hundred lackeys were lined up in batches for interrogation.
No matter how much you beg for mercy, once you enter the interrogation room, you will be tied to the cold rack.
"Tell me everything, your boss's slush fund, your own savings, or other people's private money." The mercenary asked casually, raising the corner of his mouth, which even AK couldn't suppress.
"Brother, Dad, Grandpa, can I call you ancestors? I also work there. The prices here are ridiculously high. I really don't have much money. I swear to God!" The lackey who was being interrogated became anxious and begged for mercy quickly.
So the interrogator stood by with an expressionless face, holding a barbed whip in his hand.
He swung the whip violently, and the whip made a sharp whistling sound in the air, hitting the lackey hard.
In an instant, the lackey's back was torn and blood splattered everywhere. He gritted his teeth in pain, constantly proving that he really had no money.
Seeing this, the interrogator became even more angry. He put down the whip and picked up the red-hot iron beside him.
The branding iron was brought close to the lackey's chest, making a "sizzling" sound, accompanied by a burnt smell. The lackey's body trembled violently, and a painful groan came out of his throat.
"I heard that you're very good at torturing my fellow Chinese. As long as they can't pay, no matter how much they beg for mercy, you won't let them go, right?"
"No, no, no, that's not the case. I'm responsible for security, and the people next door are the ones doing the torture. Big brother, everything I said is true. Please spare my life!"
However, the interrogator's eyes remained firm and full of disdain. He ordered someone to bring a basin of salt water and mercilessly poured it on the lackey's wound.
The lackey's body suddenly arched and he let out a heart-wrenching scream. The sound echoed in the interrogation room, making people shudder.
Compared to the tortures used by the lackey before, the interrogator didn't show any pity at all.
How many Chinese compatriots have been deceived and separated from their wives and children, their families broken up, and finally their organs dug out and their bodies thrown into the wilderness.
How many undercover police officers have been killed or buried in a foreign land? Someone will have to settle this bloody account.
Hearing the screams in the interrogation room, the other lackeys in line all had dejected faces, as if all the life and hope had been drained from their expressions.
Their eyes revealed deep fear and anxiety, and the fear followed them like a shadow, causing their bodies to tremble slightly involuntarily.
They lowered their heads like withered flowers, not daring to look directly at the majestic escorting soldiers around them. It seemed that if they raised their eyes, they would see a more cruel reality, as if they were trying their best to avoid the unknown fate that was about to come.
Some people's faces were as pale as winter snowflakes, without any blood, their lips trembling slightly like fallen leaves in the autumn wind, their hands tightly twisted together, and the strength seemed to crush all their anxiety and fear between these hands.
Others would steal a glance at the escorting soldiers from time to time, with fear in their eyes, which was like an impenetrable haze that enveloped them, and a hint of pleading, which was as weak as a candle swaying in the wind and could go out at any time.
Looking at the escorting soldiers, their expressions were as serious as sculptures made of steel.
They straightened their backs, like standing stone pillars, and held their weapons tightly, which flashed a cold light under the light.
They stared at the lackey intently, without any slackness, their eyes revealing determination and vigilance. Their determination was like a rock, unshakable, and their vigilance was like a falcon, always ready to deal with any emergency.
Some soldiers had slightly tense mouth corners, revealing their vigilance and disgust towards the prisoners. The vigilance was like a solid wall, separating the prisoners from themselves far away, and the disgust was like a biting cold wind, making people shudder.
Some soldiers had expressionless faces, like cold sculptures, focused only on carrying out their mission. Their eyes were empty and indifferent, as if nothing in the world could stir up a ripple in their hearts.
The night is long, and the screams of ghosts and wolves tell everything that has happened.
The essence of this world is still violence. Having a sword in your hand and not using it are two different things.
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