He pressed his thin lips together, lifted his leg, and walked outside.
A few subordinates carried a black bag into the basement, which, to put it bluntly, was a dungeon, equipped with all sorts of torture devices. The mottled bloodstains everywhere were nauseating, and the smell was even worse.
The guard inside saw someone coming in and threw his cigarette on the ground, extinguishing it with his foot, "Caught him?"
"I'm exhausted. He ran alone, and the ten of us chased him. He even took out a few of our guys. Damn, didn't expect he was pretty tough," the guy carrying the bag threw it on the ground and kicked it a few times with his leg, "Run, aren't you badass? Go on, run again."
"Why waste words on him, just hit him!"
The guy next to him came over and reached out to untie the bag, "Be careful not to kill him."
"Don't worry, this kind of whip, see it?" The guy pulled out a smooth whip with wax on it, only painful, leaving no marks, "Let me show you a few lashes."
