Qing Chen watched Qin Zigu suffer without a shred of pity in his heart. Instead, he came to understand how to torment him.
Qing Chen suddenly laughed, for he understood that physical pain was far less than mental torment.
Under that brutal punishment, Qin Zigu's entire body sank into extreme terror and agony.
"I'll talk! I'll talk! Please! Please!" Qin Zigu finally broke down and shouted.
His bodily instincts still produced the most humiliating response.
Like a dog.
But Qing Chen cackled sinisterly, with no intention whatsoever of stopping.
"Why didn't you do that earlier? Did you think your Grandpa Qing was so easy to talk to?
"You want to be good brothers, do you? Then I'll grant your wish, you bastard."
Qin Zigu was now filled with regret. He regretted telling Qing Chen where the Brahma Demon-Refining Art was.
He regretted that momentary lapse in judgment when he told Mo Qiuxian that Qing Chen had cultivated the Brahma Demon-Refining Art.
He regretted letting jealousy drive him to court death again and again by mocking Qing Chen.
He regretted holding out during Qing Chen's interrogation instead of betraying Mo Qiuxian.
It was not out of regard for their brotherhood. Rather, Qin Zigu had believed that speaking meant certain death, while keeping silent still offered him hope of survival.
But now Qin Zigu understood something. What a wonderful thing it was to die without pain.
Torment like this, as though he had fallen into the unending infernal hell, was pushing him to the brink of collapse.
Yet Qing Chen did not stop there. The red-hot branding iron pressed mercilessly against Qin Zigu's body.
Until Qin Zigu was drenched in blood from head to toe, like a wicked ghost being punished in the unending hell.
"Ah! ... Grandpa Qing, spare me! I'll