"Tick-tock."
"Tick-tock."
Blood ceaselessly flowed from Liu Zheng's wounds, dripping onto the cage beneath him.
A nest of white mice, with eyes blood-red, eagerly anticipated each drop, rushing to lick the blood as it fell.
And their actions were systematic, each mouse could lick only once before the next turn.
Only one mouse, speckled with a few tufts of grey fur, was an exception; it could lick twice.
Liu Zheng noted that its gaze was older than the others but also clearer.
He even counted its whiskers, totaling fifty-three.
The right side had two more than the left.
The reason he engaged in such a trivial task was, of course, because Liu Zheng was terribly bored.
At that moment, he was hung up on the wall by the Feather Chicken, with several drills piercing his limbs and chest.
The drills continued to rotate, preventing his blood from clotting.
"When will you put me down?"
After counting the grey hairs on the mouse again, Liu Zheng finally couldn't bear it any longer.
