When Jin Xinyue and Heiye Ming both put on a confident smile, doubtless of their victory, inside the heavily-guarded, impenetrable chamber at the rear of Black Swirl, Lu Qingchen was still tightly confined in the iron shackle that looked like a coffin. He could barely move his little finger one millimeter, much less put on any kind of 'smile'.
He was hanging in the center of the room upside down. Vision, hearing, smell, touch… All his senses had been blocked, casting him in silence and darkness that were insufferable for normal people.
He counted in the absolute darkness and waited patiently and tranquilly.
