Qin Fang lined up the eighteen Silver Needles one by one, and while he narrated the story behind it, his face wore a calm smile. However, every person present couldn't help but feel the chilling intent emanating from the needles shimmering with silver light…
Even Ling Feng, whose hands were stained with the blood of countless people, couldn't help but tremble slightly.
Qin Fang wasn't doing this deliberately, but rather using such language to enhance the atmosphere of the scene. Yet now, no one thought Qin Fang was joking.
Chen Shijie grew even more fearful. The Silver Needles brought him immense pressure, almost causing his psyche to collapse. He didn't know the full extent of the torments of the Eighteen Levels of Hell, but he was convinced that such agony was certainly beyond the endurance of a pampered young master like himself...
