They had just been immersed in the nauseating stench in the cellar for a long time, and their sense of smell had become numb without them even realizing it.

It was as if they had lost the ability to perceive other smells in the world, completely unaware of how extremely unpleasant their own smell was.

Stepping out of the cellar, a gentle breeze carried a hint of freshness, making them realize that the smell on them was truly awful, enough to make anyone want to stay away.

Left with no other choice, they had to temporarily suppress their eagerness to interrogate the prisoners and put the plan on hold.

First, find a place to bathe and cleanse yourself, removing this unpleasant odor.

Ye Xingli and Lu Yunqi hurriedly found a place to wash up, and the two of them quickly took off their clothes that were stained with the stench of decay.

The movements were hurried, yet carried a sense of order that was forcibly maintained amidst the chaos.

Warm water cascaded down from the copper basin like a silver waterfall, the sparkling droplets shimmering in the dim light.

However, this faint light could not dispel the ever-present anxiety in their hearts.

They held rough towels and vigorously rubbed themselves, as if they were not cleaning their bodies, but waging a life-or-death battle against evil.

Their movements became increasingly hurried, as if they wanted to pour all their anger and resentment into the wiping motion within this limited time.

He tried to strip away the deep-seated stench and the gloom brought on by the horrific scenes he had witnessed in the cellar from the depths of his soul.

After washing up, they didn't even have time to tidy their clothes properly. They just hurriedly put on their clothes haphazardly and rushed towards the prison like arrows released from a bow.

Along the way, the biting cold wind lashed at them like a knife, whipping their hair and clothes, but it did nothing to slow their pace.

Their footsteps were hurried, the soles of their shoes striking the ground with a rapid and heavy sound, like the beating of war drums.

Their eyes became incredibly resolute, and any hardship or obstacle would turn to dust before their gaze.

Their figures moved swiftly through the cold wind, like two sharp blades, trying to cut a slit in this dark world so that the light of justice could shine in.

Stepping into the prison, a dark and damp atmosphere, like a surging undercurrent, rushed towards them without warning.

That rotten and oppressive smell instantly, like the tentacles of a demon, brutally entered their nasal cavity, wantonly eroding their senses.

The cell was dimly lit, with a few flickering oil lamps casting dappled shadows on the walls.

The shadowy figures twisted and deformed, as if countless imprisoned sinful souls were struggling and writhing in agony, staring with venomous eyes at everyone who stepped into this place.

They walked steadily and powerfully along the narrow, cramped passageway straight toward the prison cells where the prisoners were held.

Water drips slowly down the cracks in the stone walls on both sides of the passage, making a dripping sound.

It was like a countdown to the end, or the silent weeping of those innocent victims.

When the person who committed the heinous crime was brought before them, the surrounding air seemed to be instantly gripped by an invisible hand, freezing so solid that it was hard to breathe.

Silence, deathly silence, so quiet that only the heavy, rapid breathing of each other could be heard, a breathing filled with anger, repression, and a persistent search for the truth.

Ye Xingli's gaze was like a gleaming dagger, piercing straight at the prisoner before him, his eyes burning with a fierce flame of anger.

The flames were intense and fierce, as if they wanted to completely devour the wicked man and turn him to ashes in the rage.

He took a step forward, his figure as upright as a pine tree, standing proudly with an innate aura of majesty and justice.

The voice, like a thunderclap, resounded loudly in the small, enclosed space: "Do you know your crime?"

The sound seemed to contain a world-destroying power, as if it wanted to break through the heavy shackles of darkness and shatter the soul of this sinful person.

The man was forcibly brought forward by several soldiers, his hands and feet tightly bound by heavy shackles.

The iron shackles clanged against each other, producing a series of crisp yet chilling sounds that echoed in the dark, damp, and putrid prison.

It was as if a death knell from hell was tolling for his already decaying soul.

However, even in this situation, his face was still full of arrogance and undisguised resentment.

His expression made it seem as if he were the one wronged by fate, maliciously framed, the most innocent and pitiful person in the world.

Under the irresistible force of the officers and soldiers, he was forced to kneel heavily on the ground.

The hard, cold ground was like a relentless boulder, hitting his knees so hard it felt like the pain was being embedded deep into his bones.

But he was like a stubborn bull struggling desperately in a hopeless situation, his neck stiff and his head held high.

His eyes gleamed with a stubborn and unrepentant light, a light mixed with a hint of madness and wishful thinking.

It was as if he was trying to use this to demonstrate his utterly absurd "innocence" to the public.

Immediately afterwards, he suddenly opened his throat and shouted at the top of his lungs.

The voice, like a sharp, broken gong, echoed wildly in the cramped and oppressive space: "What crime have I committed? I only want a way to survive!"

The voice carried a kind of unreasonable indignation, as if he were truly a pitiful person who had suffered all the hardships of the world.

He attempted to use this to confuse the public and cover up his countless crimes.

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