Pu Qinghan and Su Zimu were bound hand and foot, their mouths sealed, shrinking into a corner at the moment, still with the daze of being rendered unconscious. They could vaguely see there were only the two of them in the room, empty, with neither torture devices nor anything else—just the enclosed space, dim yellow light, and that one iron door.
Pu Qinghan blinked, her body leaning slightly, and nudged Su Zimu, who was startled, and then nudged back Pu Qinghan.
Pu Qinghan's breathing slowed as she surveyed her surroundings, but then she heard a harrowing scream coming from the window in the iron door…
It seemed… there were both men and women?
Because the screams were so terrible, especially the woman's, it instantly made the hairs on Pu Qinghan's and Su Zimu's necks stand on end, and they couldn't help but shrink their bodies.
Execution, flaying?
Pu Qinghan's face went several shades paler.
After a while, clang!
The iron door opened…
