Return of the Pearl

When Altai heard An Yi's words, he felt his heart suddenly sink, as if he had fallen into a bone-chilled ice cellar in an instant. The coldness came from all directions, wrapping him tightly.

A deep fear and anxiety surged over him like a surging tide, making him feel suffocated and almost unable to breathe.

He thought to himself: "It's over, those weapons hidden in the dark must have been discovered! What should I do? How can I be caught so easily?" Thinking of this, he became more and more panicked, like an ant on a hot pan, unable to sit still and feeling uneasy.

Altai clenched his teeth tightly, with such force that it seemed as if his teeth would embed into his gums. His lips were closed like a line, without any gap. His face was as pale as a piece of white paper, without a trace of blood. He said stubbornly, "There's nothing to say." Although there was a hint of stubbornness in his voice, the trembling and fear in it could not be concealed.

After An Yi heard Altai's words, a sinister smile immediately spread across his face. It was like the smile of a demon crawling out from the depths of a gloomy hell, filled with a chilling aura of evil and terror. The chill emanating from that smile made anyone who saw it shudder with fear, as if they were in an ice cellar, the chill seeping deep into their bones.

An Yi slowly said, "That's great. I was afraid that you would confess. If that happens, I won't have a suitable reason to torture you properly." As soon as he finished speaking, a trace of cruel pleasure flashed in An Yi's eyes. That pleasure contained a deep expectation and enjoyment of other people's pain, as if in his eyes, Altai's pain could bring him endless pleasure and satisfaction.

Whenever Altai thought of An Yi's cruel methods, he would involuntarily feel a strong sense of fear in his heart. He knew clearly that if he confessed, he would surely die.

At this moment, Altai is like a wild beast imprisoned in a cage. He is shrouded in despair and unwilling to give up. He is struggling desperately in pain and struggle. His heart is full of contradictions and entanglements. On the one hand, there is the fear of death, and on the other hand, there is the desire for survival. He is struggling between these two extreme emotions and cannot extricate himself. His eyes are full of confusion and helplessness, as if he has lost his way in the darkness and can't find a way out.

Therefore, he carried a glimmer of hope and whispered to himself in his heart: "It is better to live a miserable life than to die. Maybe there is still a glimmer of hope!" At this time, his eyes were full of struggle and hesitation. His expression was extremely complicated, with fear and despair deep in his bones, and unwillingness and stubbornness that were hard to give up intertwined.

An Yi's sinister smile was like a demon crawling out of the abyss, so hideous that it made people tremble with fear. He walked slowly towards Altai who was tightly bound, and every step seemed to be stepping on Altai's fear.

An Yi stretched out his slender and cold hand, picked up an extremely sharp silver needle, and danced it on Altai's body as swiftly as a ghost. The silver needle was like a series of cold lights, quickly shuttling across Altai's skin. Each needle pierced into his body with incredible precision, bringing a piercing pain like an ant bite.

Altai's body trembled involuntarily due to the subtle and continuous stinging pain. The trembling was like a leaf in the wind, which could not stop. Every inch of his skin shuddered under the sting of the needle tip, and every cell groaned in the painful torture. The subtle and continuous pain came like waves, plunging Altai into an endless abyss of pain, unable to extricate himself.

Then, An Yi's devilish hand slowly picked up the red-hot iron and slowly approached Altai's face like the god of death. As the iron got closer, Altai's eyes widened in horror, as if he could see the horror that was coming.

The moment the red-hot iron came into contact with Altai's skin, a creepy "sizzling" sound suddenly rang in the air. The sound was like the death knell of hell, making people shudder. At the same time, a burnt smell quickly spread. It was the stench of burnt flesh, which made people almost nauseous.

Altai's face immediately began to show hideous and terrible scars. The scars twisted and twisted like a centipede, destroying his original appearance beyond all recognition. His face became distorted and ugly, like a demon crawling out of the depths of hell, full of pain and despair. His screams echoed in this small space, like the wail of a night owl, shrill and miserable.

Then, An Yi raised the whip that was as flexible and deadly as a poisonous snake, danced it in the air in sharp arcs, and then lashed Altai fiercely. Every time the whip fell, it was accompanied by a whistling sound that broke through the air, like the roar of a beast, which made people terrified.

Deep blood marks were instantly left on Altai's body. The blood marks crisscrossed like a large blood-red net, tightly binding him in the abyss of pain. Some of these blood marks were as winding as earthworms, and some were as hideous as knife edges. Each one was shocking.

In this endless torture, Altai has long been unrecognizable. His body is covered with scars and wounds. He is in excruciating pain. Every breath is accompanied by piercing pain, and every heartbeat feels like being cut into pieces. His consciousness gradually becomes blurred under the torture of pain, as if it will disappear at any time in this terrifying atmosphere, like a candle in the wind, swaying and about to fall.

In the gloomy and silent interrogation room, An Yi stood like a demon from hell, his sinister eyes staring at Altai, who was tortured horribly and almost unrecognizable, like a poisonous snake.

He walked slowly and heavily towards Altai, holding the honey jar with sweet fragrance in his hand. His movements were gentle and delicate, as if he was performing a sacred yet cruel ritual, slowly and carefully brushing the thick honey on Altai's already scarred body.

The sweet smell of honey filled the air, intertwining with the strong smell of blood on Altai's body, forming a strange and disgusting smell. This smell seemed to come from the depths of hell, full of the smell of death and despair, making people want to vomit and feel creepy.

Altai's broken body trembled slightly in this strange atmosphere, his eyes were full of pain and fear, but he still gritted his teeth and refused to surrender. His scarred body seemed to tell of the endless torture and pain he had suffered.