?Reading on smartphone... Splash! A cool shower of water drenched the foreigner, waking him up immediately. Though it was already spring, the temperature remained quite low—being suddenly doused with a cold stream of water was quite uncomfortable. Eighty Electronic Book "Chuanhua person, what do you intend to do?" The foreigner could already speak Chuanhua, which gave Qin Feng a quiet sense of relief. He had been worried earlier that he might struggle to explain certain details in a foreign language. Since the foreigner had now become a test subject for one of the top ten most severe punishments, it was essential that he clearly understood what lay ahead of him. Otherwise, it would have been utterly inhuman. "Hahahaha! It was *you* who fired at me, aiming to take my life—now you're asking what I intend to do?" Qin, the young man, deliberately adopted a fierce expression. "Right now, you have no right to ask questions. You can only accept!" With that, he picked up a hammer and a bamboo skewer from beside him. The bamboo skewer was sharpened to a fine point, with a flat surface at the front. He lifted the foreigner's hand and gently inserted the skewer into the crease between his fingers, smiling and saying, "You've certainly heard of the Ten Most Brutal Punishments of the Qing Dynasty, haven't you? Allow me to tell you—this one is called 'sticking needles.' It used to be specifically reserved for female prisoners. I'm giving you this chance today because you're a foreigner. You should be grateful!" With that, he struck the end of the skewer firmly with his hammer. "Ah!" the foreigner cried out in pain as the skewer pierced the crease nearly a centimeter deep, lifting the fingernail. "Oh, oh, must have been quite painful, didn't it?" Qin, the young noble, looked apologetic, saying, "I'm truly sorry—I've never done something like this before and may not be very skilled at it yet. But please don't worry, I learn quickly. By now, you'll surely experience something quite different!" The foreigner's face had twisted and distorted. As the saying goes, "Ten fingers are linked to the heart." Though he had endured countless physical assaults and was certainly tough—skinny and resilient—no one would develop such training specifically for his fingers. Qin Dashi, a man who rarely adhered to conventional approaches, had immediately targeted the foreigner's fingers, leaving him with a distinct sense of being outmatched. "Exactly what do you want?" the foreigner gritted out. "Even if you're going to conduct interrogation tactics, wouldn't you at least state your concerns before resorting to physical action? Or, if persuasion or incentives fail to yield results, wouldn't you wait until then before taking action? How could you possibly start with physical contact right from the beginning?" I suppose that makes sense. Qin Feng, apologetic, said, "Sorry about that—I was so eager to experiment with the full force of the ten most dramatic forms of torture that I completely forgot to deliver the opening remarks. How about we start from the heart—what do you think?" The foreigner was drenched in sweat, unsure whether it was from pain or sheer astonishment. "But will such an opening really make a difference?" Qin Feng stared at his face and said, "We're both professionally trained—no matter how badly we're treated, we'd never speak up, let alone go to the trouble of removing our pants. So, I'm perfectly justified in taking direct action!" "Hmm." The foreigner blinked, at a loss for words. Indeed, he wouldn't sell out his organization simply because of a few well-chosen words or the generous terms of his dismissal. Thud… The second blow landed at the base of the bamboo skewer, and he cried out with even greater intensity. Outside the weathered window, Isabella shook her head, murmuring to herself, "It's too brutal. I can't bear it anymore. As a well-intentioned, ambitious person, how can I stand by and watch such brutality continue? Therefore, I choose to simply look away!" She vanished without a trace. Inside, Qin Dashao pulled out the second bamboo stick and smiled, saying, "Indeed a true tough guy—still refusing to say a word so far. Then let's continue!" "For heaven's sake, you don't even ask me anything—what am I supposed to say?" the foreigner roared. Qin Feng twirled the bamboo stick in his hand and remarked, "I ask you, and then you answer!" "No, I won't say a thing—even if I'm killed!" the foreigner screamed passionately. "Then we're done—your silence will make me even less inclined to ask you questions," Qin Feng said with a deeply thoughtful smile. "I hope you're truly a tough guy. Please don't confess until after I've tested you with ten different forms of endurance. That would be rather dull!" The foreigner was nearly in tears—never had anyone treated him like this. The cries rose and fell in succession, and finally, after the needle insertion process was complete, his hands were bloodied and torn. Even if Qin Dashao spared his life, he'd never be able to pick up a gun again in his lifetime. The pot of water beside him boiled over. He scooped a ladleful with a spoon and said, "Among the ten most brutal punishments, none is more inhuman than this—one where I pour scalding water over your body and then brush off the cooked flesh with an iron brush, layer by layer, until only your white bones remain... Heavens, that sounds truly cruel—such treatment would surely kill you. So, we’ll skip that one!" The foreigner exhaled deeply; he had already been trembling with fear ever since Qin Feng described it. Qin Feng then shifted gears: "Then let’s go with the burial. We’ll dig a hole, bury you in it, leaving only your head exposed. When I’m in a good mood, I’ll even pour some water on you to fertilize the soil—spring is now, so perhaps by summer, you’ll grow a new version of yourself!" If it weren’t for the ropes binding him, the foreigner would have fallen to his knees, pleading, "Tell me anything you want to know—I’ll tell you everything! Please, just stop tormenting me!" I wiped my brow—now he’s all bowed down. What a letdown for someone who had just been so proud Qin Feng first scolded him harshly, then walked over, reached out, and gently patted his face, saying, "Although you've let me down, the wise adapt to the times—give me a chance to save your life, on the condition that you tell me everything you know. If you dare to hide even the smallest detail, you'll continue to suffer a life worse than death. Got it?" The foreigner nodded, "Got it—I'll speak without reservation!" He began to share the information about the Death Angel. Qin Feng interjected at key moments, revealing details that left him stunned—deliberately to eliminate any sense of optimism. This person clearly held a higher position within the organization, possessing access to more confidential information. Qin Dashi listened attentively and recorded everything. With the testimonies of these four, he now had a preliminary understanding of the Death Angel's operational structure. An hour later, three police cars arrived, roaring in, and stopped steadily outside. Zhou Mingchu led the team personally, accompanied by twelve fully equipped special police officers. As soon as he entered, he asked, "Xiao Feng, what's going on? I've been driving all the way from the provincial capital!" "Another terrorist suspect—we caught him working with the three from last time," Qin said with a smile. "Really?" Zhou, the elder, was thrilled and quickly turned to look, only to be startled: "What on earth—what happened to his hands?" Xin Feng said with calm indifference, "He resisted arrest, so I had to resort to some special measures—hehe!"