Regard death as homecoming.
This truly looked like someone who no longer wished to live.
Zhao Wuji's smile faded away, and he sighed lightly, "Why torment yourself? Whether you speak now or later... you'll confess either way."
He Xiaohua then fell silent.
All that needed to be said had been said; every word henceforth was superfluous.
Besides, she was too weak to speak.
As technology rapidly advanced, reducing the workload of people, it also had the capacity to enhance their suffering.
Whenever needed.
He Xiaohua was fed a type of softening liquid; her body had become floppy, like cotton stripped of its seeds. She couldn't even bite her own tongue to commit suicide now.
Zhao Wuji waved his hand, "Proceed with the torture."
Thus, professionals in white coats began adhering small silver patches, one by one, to He Xiaohua's head and body.
These were Pain Transmission Devices, which could transmit preset levels of pain in real time to various parts of your body.
