"Rest assured, Young Master Chen. Once he's here with me, he won't be leaving alive!" Ma Wanli nodded in agreement and then strode out of the room.
Inside the interrogation room, Zhao Dong was handcuffed to the corner of a table with several men in police uniforms standing over him. The men were holding batons and stun guns, which crackled with terrifying electricity.
"Kid, do you confess to the murder?" one of the men asked fiercely.
Zhao Dong snorted coldly. "I was acting in self-defense!"
"Bullshit!" The man viciously struck Zhao Dong's back with his baton. "Does self-defense mean gouging out someone's eyes? Does it mean breaking their limbs?"
As he spoke, the baton fell on Zhao Dong's body like a downpour, a clear attempt to beat a confession out of him.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Agonizing pain surged through him. Zhao Dong was battered until his skin split and his flesh tore, and his clothes were ripped to shreds. But he clenched his jaw and didn't make a sound.
