bookrebus Chapter 791 Thunder in the Dark Night: The Secret on the Gallows
Chapter 791 Thunder in the Dark Night: The Secret on the Gallows
Amidst the violent tremors and the distant, faint roars, Zhao Hu's voice sounded exceptionally resolute. He knew that tonight would be sleepless. An unprecedentedly fierce battle had begun. And the secret hidden behind the mysterious man on the rack would be revealed. He knew that tonight would be sleepless. An unprecedentedly fierce battle had begun. And the secret hidden behind the mysterious man on the rack would be the key to unraveling all these mysteries, and even the success or failure of their resistance movement.
The interrogation must continue, no matter the cost! He looked at the man who still wore that eerie smile, his eyes filled with only cold resolve. What abyss lay beneath this tip of the iceberg? He had to find out!
Part 1: Torture in Purgatory
"Boom!"
Another deep, resounding thud, like the heartbeat of a giant beast, echoed from the depths of the dungeon, sending stone dust raining down from above. The air was thick with the stench of rust, blood, and an indescribable, sulfurous putridity. This was the most heavily guarded dungeon in Shangjing, the capital of the Great Xia Dynasty, a place specifically for imprisoning the most dangerous and troublesome criminals.
At this moment, in this specially designed interrogation room, the atmosphere was so heavy it was almost like being deep inside the prison, a place specifically used to detain the most dangerous and troublesome criminals.
At this moment, the atmosphere in this specially designed interrogation room was so heavy it was almost palpable.
Zhao Hu, a centurion of the Shence Battalion of the Great Xia Imperial Guard, was known for his incorruptibility and ruthless methods. He was a burly man with a resolute face, a scar running from his brow to his jaw adding to his menacing aura. At this moment, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly at his waist, his knuckles white from the force. His gaze, like that of a hawk, was fixed intently on the man chained to a rack in the center of the room.
The man appeared to be in his thirties, his clothes soaked with blood and dust, his exposed skin covered in gruesome wounds, old and new, clearly indicating long-term torture. However, in stark contrast to his miserable state was the lingering, eerie smile on his face. That smile carried a hint of mockery, a hint of pity, and a touch of all-knowing madness, as if the torture before him, Zhao Hu's threats, and even the entire crumbling dynasty were nothing more than a laughable farce in his eyes.
He had no name; at least, during the three months he was secretly captured, he never revealed a single word about his identity, no matter what methods were used. The prison guards privately called him "the madman," but Zhao Hu knew he wasn't. A madman wouldn't have such a deep, cold light in his eyes, and he certainly couldn't have laughed after enduring torture like "bone-carving nails" and "branding irons."
"Did you hear the roars outside?" Zhao Hu's voice was very low. A madman would not have such a deep and cold light in his eyes, and it was impossible for him to still be able to laugh after enduring tortures such as "bone-carving nails" and "branding irons".
"Did you hear the roaring outside?" Zhao Hu's voice was low and had a metallic quality to it. "Is that your accomplice? Or what you call 'Prelude to Doomsday'?"
The mysterious man slowly raised his lowered head, and beneath his disheveled hair, a pair of cloudy yet unusually bright eyes looked at Zhao Hu. His mouth stretched into a wider grin, and a hoarse laugh escaped his throat, like the straining of a broken bellows.
“Accomplices? Heh…” His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. “They are not my accomplices… They are sacrifices to the ‘Gate,’ nourishment for the new world.”
"'Door'? What door?!" Zhao Hu suddenly lunged forward with a hoarse laugh, like a broken bellows being pulled.
“Accomplices? Heh…” His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. “They are not my accomplices… They are sacrifices to the ‘Gate,’ nourishment for the new world.”
"'Door'? What door?!" Zhao Hu took a sudden step forward, his eyes flashing with cold light. "Three months! You never waste words, and every time you open your mouth, it's always about this 'door'! Where is it? What exactly do you want?!"
"Where?" The man's gaze seemed to pierce through the thick walls, looking towards some distant and dark place. "It's everywhere... It's in the greed of people's hearts, in the decay of dynasties, in every soul yearning for overthrow... It's opening, Commander Zhao, listen, that's the sound of the hinges turning... clatter... clatter..."
"Hey, centurion, listen, that's the sound of a door hinge turning... clatter... clatter..."
He began to imitate a tooth-grinding, bone-grinding sound, which, combined with the increasingly clear inhuman screams coming from outside, sent chills down the spines of the guards in the interrogation room.
Zhao Hu's face turned ashen. He knew that ordinary torture had lost its effect on this man. His will was as hard as ancient iron. He had to use more extreme methods, or... find his weakness.
"Guards!" Zhao Hu shouted sternly.
Two burly jailers immediately stepped forward, bowing to receive the order. Ten-thousand-year-old black iron. A more extreme method must be used, or… we must find his weakness.
"Guards!" Zhao Hu shouted sternly.
Two burly jailers immediately stepped forward and bowed to receive the order.
“Use the ‘traction mechanism’,” Zhao Hu said, emphasizing each word.
"Pulling the Mechanism" is one of the most insidious forms of torture in the imperial prison. It doesn't directly cause physical pain, but rather uses specially prepared drugs and silver needles to stimulate the central nervous system, plunging the victim into a boundless hallucination, forcing them to endure their deepest fears, ultimately leading to a mental breakdown and the revelation of their true feelings. This punishment is an extreme test for both the torturer and the victim, and is only used as a last resort.
Upon hearing the words "Qianji Yin," the mysterious man's smile faltered slightly for the first time.