Some time later, the two warriors reported back to Qian Renxue.
"Young Mistress, the soul master with the old Pope Decree has been apprehended. Do you have further instructions?"
Qian Renxue took a sip of tea and said:
"Good job. Now, use every torture method we have to pry open his mouth. I want him to sign a confession in black and white, stating that the Pope Decree was handed to him by Tang Hao."
"Rest assured, Young Mistress," one of the warriors said. "We've got plenty of tricks in that prison. We'll have him talking in no time."
"No rush. Once he confesses, lock him up for one month before releasing him."
Qian Renxue's eyes narrowed coldly.
"During that month, I want you to use the most 'hospitable' methods we have.
As long as he doesn't die, treat him as ruthlessly as possible."
"Yes, Young Mistress."
"If you handle this perfectly, I'll promote you both by two ranks, and double your salaries."
Hearing that, the warriors' eyes lit up with a cruel gleam—aimed at Yu Xiaogang.
They immediately bowed, "Young Mistress, we'll make sure to entertain him well."
Meanwhile, Yu Xiaogang was locked in an interrogation cell.
Gripping the iron bars, he shouted into the darkness outside the dungeon:
"Let me out! I want to see Bibi Dong! I'm her old friend! You can't treat me like this!"
"Oh?"
The two warriors entered the cell, sneering.
"You claim to be an old friend of the Pope?"
"Yes!" Yu Xiaogang insisted.
"I suspect you're a spy! Otherwise, how would you have gotten the Pope Decree? You colluded with the Clear Sky Sect, trying to gather intelligence on the Spirit Hall!
Yu Xiaogang—do you confess?!"
"Hmph. If you want to frame me, you'll always find an excuse," Yu Xiaogang stiffened his neck and raised his head like some noble scholar facing death with honor.
"Heh. Got backbone, huh? Let's see how much of it you have after a while."
The warriors opened the cell door, hoisted Yu Xiaogang like a chicken, and dragged him into another room.
Inside were several shirtless men with fierce expressions, surrounded by a terrifying array of instruments: axes, sabers, saws, drills, chisels, whips, rods, stocks, locks, finger crushers, tiger benches, chili water, bamboo slivers, wooden donkeys—everything you could imagine.
"Th-this…"
Yu Xiaogang gulped. "What are all these for…?"
"Oh, just a torture menu," one of the warriors smiled.
"For stubborn mouths, we've got plenty of ways to make them talk.
But don't worry—we won't let you pass out from the pain.
We've even arranged top-tier healing-type soul masters so after each session, you can be patched up right away and enjoy the next round."
With that, the warrior began to introduce every tool in the room, one by one.
And the more he explained, the more sweat poured from Yu Xiaogang's trembling body.
After the warrior finished his introduction, he grinned wickedly at Yu Xiaogang and said,
"You're Yu Xiaogang, right? Xiao Gang, which 'package' would you like to start enjoying?"
"I…" Yu Xiaogang gulped and said, "I'll confess truthfully."
"Hahaha."
The warrior reached out and rubbed Yu Xiaogang's flat, crew-cut head and said,
"Didn't expect a worthless level-29 loser like you to know your place. Alright, confess honestly."
So, Yu Xiaogang began to explain how he had obtained the Pope's Decree. As he spoke, someone nearby took notes.
But Yu Xiaogang was still sly—he knew that Tang Hao was infamous across the entire Douluo Continent, especially as an enemy of the Spirit Hall. There was no way he could admit any connection with him. So he lied, claiming he had picked up the decree while visiting the ruins of the Clear Sky Sect.
By the end, Yu Xiaogang flattered the interrogating warrior, saying:
"I've confessed everything I needed to. Can I leave now?"
"In a rush?"
The interrogator casually picked up the written confession and placed a stack of red ink pads beside it. His tone turned harsh:
"Sign and seal it."
Yu Xiaogang looked at the confession and his expression changed instantly. Sweat poured down his face again.
The written confession claimed that Tang Hao had personally handed the Pope's Decree to Yu Xiaogang one day, and asked him to spy on the Spirit Hall. Signing that document would brand Yu Xiaogang as a spy, and every power in the world dealt with spies mercilessly.
No! He couldn't sign that!
"This… this confession doesn't match what I said," Yu Xiaogang protested.
"This is exactly what you just confessed, right everyone?"
The warrior swept his gaze around the room.
Everyone in the interrogation room wore vicious grins and responded,
"Yes, this is exactly what you said."
"You're falsifying my statement!" Yu Xiaogang cried out in grief and indignation.
"So are you going to sign, or not?" the warrior asked with a cruel smile.
"Absolutely no—AHHH!"
Crack!
The warrior lashed Yu Xiaogang with a large leather whip, tearing open his skin.
"Ughhh! AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
"Sign it or not?" Whack!
"Wait! I'm an old acquaintance of the Pope! You can't treat me like this! If the Pope finds out what you've done to me, you'll die without a grave!" Yu Xiaogang shouted, gritting his teeth through the pain.
"You dare use the Pope to threaten me? You think you're worthy? The Pope doesn't even know you're here. Even if she did, so what? You think she'd care about a level-29 piece of trash like you?"
The warrior showed no mercy and lashed him dozens more times.
Each time he struck, he bellowed:
"Sign or not? Seal or not?!"
"AAAHHH! STOP! I'LL SIGN! I'LL SIGN! PLEASE! SPARE ME—AAAHHH!"
Yu Xiaogang's wails echoed through the interrogation room.
In fact, Yu Xiaogang had already started begging for mercy after the third whip.
The rest of the whipping was purely because the warrior was enjoying the sound of his howls too much.
Only when Yu Xiaogang was nearly unconscious did the warrior finally give a look to a healing-type Spirit Master nearby.
The healer nodded and cast a healing skill. A Holy Light of Restoration enveloped Yu Xiaogang, healing his wounds and restoring his skin to its pre-whipped, tender state.
When Yu Xiaogang came to and saw the warrior snapping the whip again, fear flickered in his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabbed the false confession, signed his name, and stamped his fingerprint.
The warrior took the confession and put it away.
Yu Xiaogang begged,
"I've confessed now… Can I go?"
"You confessed? That was only the beginning."
The warrior sneered.
"Yu Xiaogang, you conspired with Tang Hao—a heinous criminal—and spied on the Spirit Hall. You're already guilty beyond redemption, and you want to leave?"
Behind the warrior, the other people in the interrogation room began preparing all kinds of torture tools: chili water, tiger benches, bamboo slivers...
Seeing this, Yu Xiaogang started sweating all over again.
"I've already confessed! What… what are you trying to do?"
"Yes, you've confessed. But I find you extremely annoying. So we'll act like you refused to confess, and let you enjoy the entire torture package. Then we'll present your confession."
"Noooooo!"
Inside the interrogation room, Yu Xiaogang's screams of agony echoed once again.
He was tortured repeatedly, healed repeatedly, and tortured again. Eventually, the warrior grew bored and threw him into a prison cell.
A few days later—
The warrior unlocked Yu Xiaogang's cell.
Yu Xiaogang looked at him with fear.
"Xiao Gang, I'm taking you to your new prison now."
The iron door creaked open. The warrior grabbed Yu Xiaogang like a baby chick and dragged him out.
"You're in luck. The prison is hosting a welcome party just for you!"
"Huh? A welcome party?"
Yu Xiaogang blinked in confusion, but before he could think more, he was dragged along.
"You'll understand when you get there."
As they neared the prison block, Yu Xiaogang could already hear cheerful singing coming from inside.
For some reason, these songs gave him a very bad feeling.
The warrior took out a key and opened the iron door.
Inside, the scent of sweat from burly men flooded out.
The room was full of shirtless muscle-bound men sitting in an audience, cheering loudly.
On the central stage stood three more buff men.
The one in the center had a massive scar that split his face in two.
The one on the left wore an eyepatch—clearly a one-eyed man.
The one on the right was tall and burly, with a bright red mohawk.
From somewhere in the audience, a voice that Yu Xiaogang found horribly familiar called out:
"Chick Bro-chan~"
"Hai~" Chick Bro raised his hand in greeting.
"What do you like?" the audience shouted in unison.
"Opening a newbie's eyes, but I still like you better~"
Chick Bro twisted coyly as he replied.
Then the voice asked again,
"Scar Bro-chan~"
"Hai~"
Scar Bro stepped forward a few paces.
"What do you like?" the audience bellowed.
"The first bite of ginseng fruit… but I still like you better~"
Scar Bro responded in his gruff voice, then blew a kiss toward Yu Xiaogang.
Scar Bro turned and joined the other two to shout toward the last man on stage:
"Dragon Bro-chan~"
Dragon Bro raised his hand and said,
"Hai~"
"What do you like?"
"Watching you helplessly pick up soap… but I still like you better~"
Then all three swapped positions and asked the audience together:
"Everyone~~?"
"Hai~~" the muscle men responded.
"What do you like?"
"Of course, we love Yu Xiaogang the most!"
Yu Xiaogang was sweating profusely. Perhaps the memory of that bathhouse incident was simply too unbearable, and Yu Xiaogang had buried it deep like a dream, completely erasing it from his mind.
However, the hellish scene before him now stirred up those decades-old memories he had long forgotten. He had a terrible feeling about this and wanted to turn and run. But the iron door in front of him slammed shut, and the sound of shackles locking could be heard from behind it.