In the depths of the Demon Suppression Tower, within a sunless cell.
Drip, drip!
A droplet of cold water fell from the chains, making a resonant noise.
Zhou Hu, who was in a daze, half asleep, shuddered and violently woke up. Squinting his eyes towards the bars, he saw no one in the hallway, the door remained firmly locked, and Zhou Hu let out a slight sigh of relief, his tense muscles relaxing.
Even such a small movement caused a piercing pain as it tugged at his muscles, making Zhou Hu grimace in agony.
"These sons of bitches are utterly inhumane," he groaned, watching the flickering flame on the candlestick.
Recalling his experience of being imprisoned during this period was like a scene from hell.
Every day, he received three beatings—morning, noon, and evening, not one less.
In between, there were five minor beatings, each one breaking several bones and slicing open several pieces of his flesh.
