"Drip... drip..."
The interrogation room was terrifyingly quiet, with only the sound of blood dripping onto the floor clearly audible.
Qiao was strapped to an interrogation chair, transformed into a man covered in blood.
His features were almost unrecognizable. One eye was swollen shut, while the other had been gouged out.
The wound had long since been treated to stop the bleeding and securely bandaged.
At the same time, two blood bags were hooked into him, continuously transfusing him to prevent excessive blood loss from the earlier interrogation.
Almost not an inch of Qiao's skin remained intact. Nearly all the blood in his body had been replaced once over, while the blood on the floor had flooded the entire room before draining away through the sewer.
The unending pain had nearly driven him mad. He wanted to pass out, but the stimulants and adrenaline injected by the two demons before him kept waking him up. He simply could not lose consciousness.
At first, Qiao had tried to hold out, but he soon completely broke down and spilled everything he knew. He had even recounted all sorts of experiences from his childhood to adulthood, over and over again.
He had no idea how many times he had begged, asking only for them to stop, even for a single minute.
But these people seemed unable to understand a word he said, as though he were nothing but an animal.
No, not even an animal should be treated like this...
Only now did he finally understand what had once happened inside Guantanamo Prison.
These people could make him live in hell while ensuring that he could not die.
Later on, he even completely forgot about the Whisperer and embraced God once more in his soul, hoping to find some peace.
Seven hours and