When Clarice, Bronte, and Grant heard Chapman's screams, they could not help but turn their heads to look.
Hiss!
The three of them took a deep breath and broke out in cold sweat.
At this moment, Chapman could neither advance nor retreat. He hated the Death Inquisitor to the core. That damned clock was ticking non-stop. He watched as the seconds ticked away, but he could not do anything with the key in his hand.
"F*ck you, Judge! I'm going to kill your whole family!"
Chapman cursed, then he raised his left fist and smashed it into the glass box. Bang! The glass box didn't change at all. It wasn't ordinary glass at all, but reinforced and hardened glass!
"F*ck! Ahhhhh!"
Chapman broke down. He looked at his right hand, which was heavily wounded by the barbs, and gritted his teeth. But just as he exerted his strength, the barbs tore a small hole in his flesh.
"Ah! ah ah ah!"
