Spy Wars: I am the Captain of the Military Police

"Get up, both of you, stop embarrassing me here! Where's Sakurako? What are you doing hiding in there?" Zhou Zhengqing scolded in a deep voice, and then stepped past Itai Yudai and Nakagawa Ken.

Zhou Zhengqing didn't even look at them again. The sound of his military boots stepping on the ground was unusually clear in the dead silence.

Makarov's huge body followed closely behind like the most loyal shadow, while Bai Yanliusheng pushed his glasses. His eyes behind the lenses were calm and his steps were leisurely as if he was inspecting his own operating room.

Itai and Ken Nakagawa looked at each other and quickly stood up to follow.

The moment he passed through the cell door, a deeper chill, dampness, and a strong smell of blood hit him in the face.

This cell was darker than expected, like a tunnel leading to hell.

In the middle of the cell, a heavy iron fence divided the space into two halves.

A dirty, faded white cloth curtain hung on the fence, swaying slightly at the moment, blocking the view of anyone peeping inside.

And right in front of the iron fence, Sakurako was standing there.

She lowered her head deeply, her long black hair falling down, covering most of her face, leaving only a taut, bloodless chin exposed.

The two slender little hands, which had obviously been washed and were still dripping with water, were now twisting the kimono in front of them vigorously.

The light green furisode kimono, a symbol of elegance, was dotted with large patches of crimson or dark red stains, which were fresh and half-dried blood.

A dark-colored strap was tightly tied around her slender arm, binding the wide furisode. The sleeves were rolled up high, revealing an exceptionally white forearm, stained with a few unwashed, glaring bright red streaks.

Zhou Zhengqing's eyes swept over everything in an instant. Finally, his gaze suddenly fixed on Yingzi's feet.

There were no geta or tabi shoes.

There was only a pair of bare feet covered with sticky dark red.

Her feet were beautiful, with slender ankles and toes as round as jade. Her skin appeared pale and almost transparent in the dim light.

However, at this moment, this white was completely stained by large pieces of sticky dark red that had not yet solidified.

Toes, between toes, and even some of the tremors spread to the ankles.

It's like just wading out of a pool of blood that has not yet cooled down!

Sakurako lay motionless, like a strange sculpture frozen in blood.

Only her slightly trembling fingertips and her almost uncatchable breathing revealed her inner tension and anxiety.

His gaze lingered on the pair of bare feet stained with sticky blood for a few seconds. The smell of blood mixed with the smell of rust in the air was a bit pungent.

He turned his head and looked away from Sakurako.

There were two figures on one side of the wall.

The man on the left was wrapped in a black gown that was washed to a grayish color. He was slightly fat, his back was abnormally straight, and his neck was raised at an almost arrogant angle. His cloudy eyes stared straight into Zhou Zhengqing's gaze through the dim light.

The corners of his mouth twitched nervously.

The figure on the right was hunched over, with sparse hair on his head that looked like a wasteland burned by wildfire.

He had messy stubble and a pair of sunken eye sockets, but his eyes were unusually clear, calmly reflecting the gloom of the cell and Zhou Zhengqing's astonishment.

Lao Tan! Shao Laoshuan! Why are they here?

Didn't Itai Yudai say in his last report that he had only detained Shao Laoshuan and Lao Tan? How did they appear on the second underground floor?!

Could it be that Itai Yudai and Sakurako are interrogating them?

His eyes quickly swept over the two men's bodies. There were no whip marks, no bloodstains, no marks from being bound, and even their clothes were intact. This was definitely not the scene after torture!

Zhou Zhengqing knew the identities of these two people because he had watched TV. One was the person in charge of the Military Unification Office in Tianjin, and the other was a liaison for the underground party!

But what is the situation now?

If you don’t understand, ask later. Now Zhou Zhengqing just wants to find out what Yingzi is doing here and where this strong smell of blood comes from.

Zhou Zhengqing's army boots treaded through the sticky blood, making a wet, muffled sound in the dead silence. When he reached Yingzi's side, he paused slightly and glanced sideways. The dim light stretched his shadow, enveloping the girl's trembling shoulders like an iron curtain.

"Yingzi." Zhou Zhengqing's voice was deliberately soft, but it was like an ice pick piercing the solidified air: "Is it not disturbing you?"

"Ah! Young, young master..." Sakurako turned around suddenly, her face panicked.

Sakurako was not worried about anything else. What made her most uneasy was the flying knife she had just shot towards the door!

Even though it was a scare, it was directed at the young master!

Zhou Zhengqing didn't wait for further instructions.

He walked straight past her, the sound of his boots clacking on the ground echoing in the cell.

An iron fence stretched before my eyes, and the dirty white curtain hung like a spirit-calling banner, its edges soaked with dark brown stains.

He raised his hand and clamped the curtain with his fingers. The moment the curtain was opened, time suddenly froze.

Zhou Zhengqing's pupils shrank sharply and his heart trembled as if it had been shot!

A suffocating feeling like rust rose in the throat, and the stomach fell into an icy cave while rolling.

Deep in the cell, two figures were nailed to a cross, their heads drooping like broken ears of wheat.

The chest was still rising and falling, but as weak as the flapping of a dying butterfly's wings.

They were not simply tied up, but like the martyrs in religious paintings, their bodies were pierced by five black iron nails.

The palm of his hand was pierced by a huge nail, and the white bones were exposed where the skin and flesh were rolled up.

The iron nail driven deeper into the shin bone of the calf, with the nail head embedded in the flesh, leaving only the rusty end exposed.

The blood had not yet completely flowed out, the sticky dark red liquid meandered along the wood grain and formed two pools on the cold concrete floor.

What was even more terrifying was the edge of the wound. The flesh was not cut neatly by a sharp weapon, but showed jagged tears, as if the nail had encountered fierce resistance from the bone when it was driven in, and was then violently hammered repeatedly until it penetrated.

"Huh..." The man on the left suddenly twitched, and a hissing sound like a leaky bellows came out of his throat.

The moment the curtain was opened, the sweet smell of rust mixed with the unique fishy stench of tissue fluid hit my face.

Zhou Zhengqing's gaze was like being attracted by a magnet, fixed on the person being tortured on the left, Takeda Koichi!

The face that once wore black-framed glasses and always had a calculating sneer on its face was now swollen like a fermented rotten peach.

Blood clotted his right eye, and the only remaining left eye struggled to keep open a glimmer of light, the pupil dilated like a dusty glass bead.

His iconic black-framed glasses had long been shattered, with the twisted temples hooked on his earlobes like torture instruments, and the sharp lens fragments wedged deeply into the flesh of his cheekbones. They trembled slightly with his dying breaths, and every movement oozed out blood mixed with glass fragments.

On the right, Kazuki Seiji looked like a torn sack with his soul drained out, his head drooping, and only the faint twitching of his nostrils proved that life had not yet escaped this broken body.

If it were just that, Zhou Zhengqing wouldn't have almost lost his composure.

What really made Zhou Zhengqing's stomach churn and his heart stop was...