Free Web NovelChapter 669: Chapter 616: The Mask Arrived, But Was He Too Late?!!
"Puchi!"
"Ugh—!!!"
The sound of tearing flesh and a distorted wail of agony echoed simultaneously.
The tall old man’s five fingers curved like hooks, piercing into the special agent’s shoulder like tearing through butter.
His sharp nails easily penetrated the flesh, directly gripping the scapula underneath.
Then, with a sudden clench, he twisted inwards and lifted.
"Crack, ka-cha..."
The sickening sound of bones breaking erupted, and the special agent’s entire arm twisted into a grotesque angle, like a wet cloth twisted counterclockwise three times, the joints bursting open with protruding shards of bone.
"Aaaaah——!!!!"
The special agent’s screams were endless, bloodshot eyes bulging as if they would burst from the sockets.
The entire left arm formed an unnatural arc against the human anatomy, pale bone shards piercing through the flesh, torn tendons twitching and curling, each spasm bringing out a gush of blood.
And this horrific torture was nowhere near stopping; it had only just begun.
Imagine how much it would hurt if this scene were happening to you.
"Huh... huh..."
The special agent’s screams reduced to the wheezing of a broken bellows, as the waves of pain pummeled his brain like a tsunami.
The tall old man leaned in close to the special agent’s twisted face, his breath carrying a foul stench:
"Before coming here, I specifically conducted an investigation, retrieved case records from the Patrol Office, and thoroughly studied the photographs of corpses killed by the [Mask]."
He admired the special agent’s deformed shoulder, as if appreciating a piece of art,
"Young Master Kuangyan, do you think I’ve done a good job imitating the shape of your arm?"
The eyes are amplifiers of sensation, particularly enhancing the sense of pain.
This is why, even after applying anesthesia during tooth extraction, they blindfold the patient.
The extent of amplification depends on the impact of the visual effect.
At this moment, the special agent’s dilated eyes reflected his dismembered limb being torn apart inch by inch.
Every severed tendon, every rolling piece of flesh, was translated onto his retina as excruciating pain magnified thousands of times.
In the past, he had caused similar bloodshed many times, finding blood to be the most enchanting color, its scarlet shade surpassing all the world’s paints in his eyes.
But now, he found blood to be the most nauseating color in the world, enough to make one retch at the sight.
More horrifyingly, his mind uncontrollably flashed through the photos Feng Ju had once shown him of those crime scenes.
In the photos, the corpses killed by [Mask], with limbs twisted against their joints and muscles meticulously stripped like artworks, all had an inhuman eerie beauty.
Just like his own arm right now... identical.
Alike!
Isn’t it? Exactly alike!
It wasn’t just a resemblance; it was identical.
Clearly, the other party wasn’t just torturing him but also imitating [Mask]’s "murder signature."
He suddenly lifted his head, bloodshot and tear-filled eyes fixing on the tall old man’s face, but he didn’t know how to respond to the soul-searching question.
Answer "like"?
That would admit the perfection of the imitation, granting the other party permission to kill him and frame [Mask]!
Answer "unlike"?
The torturer might endeavor to refine his craft, intensifying the torture!
Who can teach me?! Who can save me?!
But whether it was alike or not, that wasn’t the most lethal issue; the most lethal issue was whether he should completely disclose the whereabouts of the Sheepskin Scroll.
The other party was already sculpting a "death pose" for him, it wasn’t just mere torture for confession but a death announcement!
If he didn’t confess now, death was almost certain, as the other party clearly had run out of patience.
Yet if he confessed... his value would only remain as a disguised corpse, and he still wouldn’t escape death!
What to do?
How should this question be answered, who can teach me?
The special agent desperately did not want to die; he carried the noble Divine Bloodline, destined for endless glory, wealth, power, and status.
How could he allow himself to die in this dirty, foul-smelling, lightless sewer?!
Truly, please, someone save me!
The special agent screamed madly in his heart, every cell crying out for survival:
"Please... someone... someone save me!!
Anyone, at any cost, just save me, save me... I’m willing to do anything... slave or beast, offering everything... please... please!"
Unprecedented prayer surged within him!
If anyone could save him now, he vowed to regard them as his faith in the rest of his life!!!
The tall old man, watching the special agent cry and convulse, focused only on his wails, his patience finally exhausted.
He sneered coldly:
"Seems Young Master Kuangyan’s bones are tougher than I thought!"
"Enough..."
As he spoke, his hand that was pressed against the special agent’s throat suddenly moved, gripping the top of the head, and with a sigh, he said:
"In the end, I can’t bear to let Young Master Kuangyan suffer, I’ll send you on your way, and after you’re dead, I’ll arrange your corpse."
The moment the words fell.
The pitch-black nails pierced effortlessly into the special agent’s scalp, a dense and eerie black aura rushing in through the nails.
Instantly, the special agent’s forehead turned jet black, then the hollows of his eyes filled with deathly pallor, and finally, even his prominent nose and cheekbones were covered with bizarre black spots.
Leaving only the lips and chin below the nose starkly pale.
This ultimate contrast of black and white looked as if a deceased’s portrait had accidentally soaked in ink, staining the upper half black, while the lower face remained grimly pale!
