The torture master was packing away his tools when Wang Jingyuan and Yan Qiufeng walked in. The dim room reeked of the metallic scent of blood. The stone floor had dark stains that remained no matter how many times the floor was cleaned. A metal cross with shackles hanging on the arms stood facing the door, awaiting its next crucifixion victim.
"Greetings to Little General Yan." The torture master bowed slightly. "Please excuse the blood—although I am sure you have seen worse on the battlefield."
"Ah, no worries. We are investigating the deaths of the Hanyao prisoner and Minister Wei, and we wanted to ask you a few questions."
The torture master did not stop what he was doing. "I will tell you all that I know."
Yan Qiufeng asked, "You were present during the prisoner's interrogation, correct?"
"Yes. I am the torture master; I personally performed the torturing."
"Who else was present?"