He Jie's body convulsed violently, and at last, he broke down.
Not because of the pain.
However much it hurt, it was nothing compared to having those bugs of the Holy Envoy's gnaw at his soul.
He broke down because of fear.
The looks in these people's eyes.
These people lining up to stab him.
They weren't professional interrogators or cold-blooded executioners.
They were the most ordinary survivors.
Ordinary people who, before the apocalypse, would haggle at the market, go to a tavern for a drink after work, and take their children to the park to fly kites on weekends.
But now, there was no hatred in their eyes, no pleasure, not even disgust.
They were simply completing a task.
Something that ought to be done.
Like disposing of garbage, it required no extra emotion.
He Jie finally spoke.
"You... you're devils..."
His voice was hoarse, trembling, and choked with sobs.
He looked at Cao Xianming, at Peng Fan, at the people lined up waiting for him.
"You're... the real devils..."
Peng Fan's expression didn't change at all when he heard this.
He stepped forward, pulled the Bone Dagger out of He Jie's stomach, and wiped the blood off on He Jie's clothes.
Then he crouched down, looking levelly into He Jie's fear-twisted face.
"No."
He said.
"We're human."
He paused, then gave his first smile of the entire interrogation.
"That's what scares you most, isn't it?"
He Jie's pupils abruptly shrank to pinpoints.
Peng Fan stood up and brushed the dust from his knees.
"You're not afraid of knives, pain, or death."
"What you're afraid of... is that 'ordinary people' like us aren't afraid of you anymore."
"You paid such a steep price to turn yourselves into things neither human nor ghost, just to make us fear you."
"We