Big Han angrily said, "I won't!"
The iron plate was densely covered with formation patterns, resembling a realm of knives, needles, and raging fire; one could tell without looking that it was definitely not anything good.
"Are you going to kneel or not?" Mo Hua demanded, his face stern.
Big Han scoffed, "You think I'm stupid... Agh—"
He hadn't finished speaking when Ouyang Feng held him down and kicked his knee.
Big Han's knees buckled, and he knelt down on the iron plate, instantly letting out a painful howl, his forehead covered in cold sweat, his face twisted in agony.
Mo Hua didn't know if he was genuinely in pain or just pretending, and asked with a curious face:
"Does it hurt?"
He really wanted to know...
This iron plate, although designed by him, and with all the formations meticulously drawn by him, Mo Hua was unclear about the specific effects.
He just guessed it would be very painful.
