When the early morning sunlight fell through the iron window, Blood Prison Douluo woke up.
Consciousness climbed up inch by inch from the mire.
First it was cold.
The coldness of the Soul Guidance Alloy against the skin penetrated from the wrists and ankles into the bones.
Then there was a dull pain that exploded from the back of the head and spread along the spine to the eye sockets.
He opened his eyes.
Above his head was a Soul Guidance Lamp. The light was so white that it stung his eyes. He squinted and saw himself sitting on an iron chair, with his limbs fixed by heavy chains. Each chain was made of soul-guiding alloy, with dark golden lines flowing on the surface.
He struggled a little, but the chain didn't move at all, but there was a dull pain in his shoulder blades. The other end of the chain was buried in the wall, and he didn't know what it was connected to.
He tried to mobilize Soul Power.
Nothing.
The sea of souls was like a dry well that had been drained. No matter how much he pushed it, not a drop of water responded.
He could still feel the existence of Soul Ring, but it was like a layer of thick glass, visible but intangible. Every time he tried to activate Soul Power, the layer of glass would become thicker and more airtight.
The heartbeat starts to accelerate.
A level 97 Super Douluo relies most heavily on his own strength. When this strength is taken away, he is no different from an old man selling vegetables on the street.
Calm down.
He suppressed his breathing. He first figured out where he was and what his captor wanted.
He lowered his head and glanced at himself. He had changed his robe, and it was not the original one. The gauze on the wound was neatly wrapped, and there were faint traces of green medicine - someone had treated his wound.
This made him feel an indescribable feeling in his heart. He had been helpless since he was a child. He had been struggling in the church for so many years. Every time he was injured, he could only silently carry it by himself. Now that he was a prisoner, someone bandaged it for him.
No, wake up!
He bit the tip of his tongue - the other person was treating his injuries because he didn't intend to let him die. Not intending to let him die meant that he had plenty of time to take care of him.
Yes, that's it.
He closed his eyes, breathed evenly, and pretended to be still unconscious.
Someone is talking outside the door.
The voice was not loud, and the words could not be heard clearly through an iron gate. However, Blood Prison Douluo's hearing was not blocked. He concentrated for a moment and captured a few words - "Soul Douluo", "Zhongli Wu", and "surname".
His fingertips tightened slightly.
"This trip was not in vain... There are three of them, all with the surname Zhongli. Do you think it's a coincidence or not?" A young voice sounded casual and relaxed.
"The surname Zhongli is rare. People with the same surname may not necessarily be from the same clan, but people from the same clan must have the same surname. Even if they are really from the Zhongli clan, Zhongli Wu would never recognize them." Another voice, gentle, like jade on silk, was a woman.
"What does it matter whether you recognize them or not? It is enough for us to know that their surname is Zhongli. Let us go out later and say that the nephew of the Holy Spirit Cult leader's family is a guest at Yanhuang Lingyun, and ask Zhongli Wu to pick him up in person - see if he dares to come."
"You're really annoying."
"It's not anger, it's a temptation. If he comes, it means these three components are heavy enough; if he doesn't come, we can still pry things out of their mouths."
Blood Prison was shocked. Are he talking about those three Soul Douluo? Are they still alive?
"Now that you're awake, don't pretend to be dead."
The voice suddenly rose in pitch, and the tone remained the same, but it carried an undeniable coldness.
Blood Prison didn't respond. He just raised his head and stared at the closed iron door.
Squeak--
The door opened.
A person walked out of the shadows - not the "silver-haired old monster" expected, nor the green-haired nightmare.
It's a young man.
Her long silver-white hair was tied loosely behind her head, and a few strands of broken hair hung down on the side of her face, making her face too delicate.
Gold and silver eyes, the left eye has a moonlight, and the right eye has a golden sun, but it looks particularly calm under the dim light.
He was wearing a moon-white robe and holding a thin booklet in his hand. What was written on the cover was Blood Prison, which he couldn't see clearly.
"Did you hear what I just said?"
The young man walked up to him and looked at him condescendingly. There was no pride or anger, only a kind of calmness that sent chills down the spine.
He opened the booklet. "Blood Prison Douluo, Holy Spirit Cult Offering Hall, Third Offering, level ninety-seven Super Douluo. Martial Soul Nether Abyss Blood Sea, Soul Ring Two yellow, two purple, four black and one red, more than six thousand yuan Soul Bone, right?"
"You... who are you?" Blood Prison Douluo's voice was hoarse. Not even the leader of the church knew this information.
The young man didn't answer, he just pulled up a chair, sat down opposite him, crossed his legs, and folded his hands on his knees.
"My surname is Long." He said in a casual tone, "My name is Long Jinyu."
Blood Prison's eyes changed.
Of course he has heard of this name.
The core disciple of Shrek, the current dean of Yanhuang Lingyun, and the silver-haired boy ranked in the top three on Holy Son's wanted list.
It turns out to be this face.
"Catch me," Blood Prison's voice returned to calmness, "What do you want?"
Long Jinyu looked at him and smiled a little deeper.
"No rush. Let's talk about your Holy Son first."
Blood Prison stared at the pair of strange eyes and said harshly, "Humph, it's just you? A young boy who wants to pry something from my mouth?"
The young man was not angry. He turned his head and looked at the shadow in the corner. "Sister Yu, it seems that he is still a little unconvinced."
A very soft laugh came from the shadows.
A emerald-colored figure emerged from the darkness, with long hair hanging down to her waist, and the dragon's horns glowed with a warm green color under the cold light. She walked to the boy's side, and her eyes fell on Blood Prison's face.
Blood Prison's breathing stopped for a moment.
Not because of this woman's beauty, but because the atmosphere in the entire interrogation room changed the moment she appeared.
He was like a fish that was suddenly fished out of the water and thrown onto the shore. The feeling of suffocation came from all directions.
"Blood Prison Douluo, you don't seem to understand the situation yet." He spoke softly, but his voice was as soft as ice water poured from his head. "Although my lord is young, he already holds a high position. He is a figure that even you 'Holy Son' are afraid of. The woman who defeated you just now was just acting on his orders. The person who rescued Zhang Lexuan is me."
She paused, tilted her head slightly, the emerald light in her hand condensed, and a slender emerald sword took shape silently. The tip of the sword was placed three inches in front of Blood Prison's Adam's apple. "Who do you think you are? A level 97 Titled Douluo, in front of my Lord, is just an ant looking up at the sky. Being able to sit here alive and talk to him is already the greatest honor in your life. You should cherish your blessing, rather than being harsh here."
Blood Prison was silent.
He did not lower his head to look at the sword. He could feel that there was no killing intent on the tip of the sword, but there was something more terrifying than killing intent. It seemed that as long as this woman was willing, he would not even be qualified to "die".
Who is this woman? Her aura is more dangerous than that of the green-haired one, and her strength is probably still above hers. Could it be... that she raided the cave while he was away?
He hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't hold it back. "May I ask... who are you?"
She lowered her eyes and looked at him, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"You don't deserve to know."