— ??? —
Within the dark and damp basement, the only light came from a flimsy bulb hanging precariously from the ceiling. A young man—the young master of the Peng clan, who had been beaten to a pulp by an enraged Empress—sat tied to an adamantine folding chair. His cultivation had been sealed by the Empress herself, rendering him powerless.
Russo Veneziale slowly approached the young man, his footsteps echoing ominously in the confined space. He gave a subtle nod to one of his men, who held a bucket of cold water mixed with a bag full of salt.
The lackey nodded in acknowledgment before splashing the icy, saline water over the young man's battered body.
"Hissss! Arrgghhhhhh!" the young master cried out, jolting awake as the stinging liquid seeped into the cracks and wounds on his flesh, amplifying his agony.
