"Hey, that fellow's body has been stabbed several times by a platinum-tier weapon smeared with lethal poison. How can he still get up?"
The torturer jumped down from the table and raised her right leg; she was wearing a high-heeled boot. She stepped on the wound on Duke Piggy's back and crushed it.
The wound was stimulated, and Duke Piggy spat out another mouthful of blood. His head was covered in a cold sweat, and his body trembled like a leaf.
"Duke Piggy, don't stand up again." Blake also had a pained expression on his face. He had a hunch that Duke Piggy was only pretending to be unconscious. After all, Duke Piggy's body fat was so thick that even if he had been stabbed a few times by a torture tool, he would not have fainted.
He had pretended to faint, so why did he have to stand up then? What kind of belief supported Duke Piggy?
"I can't let you go because you just said you wanted to make a specimen of Young Master Watson."
