Only after hearing Lian Youming's voice did Tian Dayong let out a long breath. Without another word, he gripped a submachine gun and cautiously felt his way inside. The oil lamps in the secret passage were lit again.
Lian Youming pushed the door open and went out. Looking at the severed limbs strewn across the floor, he knitted his thick brows, his body tensing to the utmost. He moved slowly, twin pistols held across him, sensing the movements all around.
This dungeon was impregnable, and with the heavy guard outside, escaping head-on was utterly impossible.
Those people had to still be down here.
Lian Youming did not rush to act. Instead, he remained on full alert, waiting to regroup with Tian Dayong and the others.
It was not until more than ten minutes later that all the oil lamps in the secret passage were lit again.
Tian Dayong led the way, while others behind him opened cell doors one after another, searching for survivors and examining every corpse on the floor.
Yet they found not a single survivor along the way. Some had shattered skulls, some crushed throats, and some collapsed chests. They had died in all manner of ways, and some did not even have intact bodies left. It was a horrifying sight.
Lian Youming took it all in. Only when Tian Dayong and the others had lit the lamps in the depths of the passage did he turn toward the last few cell doors as though facing a formidable enemy, until the heavy locks were undone and the ten cell doors on either side were opened one by one. But to their bitter disappointment, six cells in a row were empty. "How is this possible?"
Finding it hard to believe, Lian Youming darted inside first, his eyes swiftly