The Blood Moon hung high, casting its glow on the White Wasteland.
Cai Yonglong, Fang Yun, Zhang Jun, Wang Shuqi, and Wu Jun were tied to crosses, unable to move.
They could only stare fearfully at the mysterious figure in a black robe, wielding a scythe, and resembling a Death God as it hovered in front of them, its blood-red pupils fixed on them.
"Please, let me go. I'll do anything for you! I'll be your slave!"
Fang Yun's face was drained of blood as he desperately begged for mercy.
He was on the verge of losing his mind.
Somehow, he'd been dragged into this bizarre world, unable to move or fight back, and left at the mercy of terrifying punishments.
What drove him mad was that even dying didn't spare him; he'd simply be resurrected to suffer it all again.
He'd already endured this cycle of torture, death, and resurrection twenty times, and both his sanity and spirit were on the brink of collapse.
"Aren't you supposed to be a savior? You can't even handle this?"
