The agonized cries of Old Li gradually weakened, his body hung limply, while the hand cruelly pinned by the sewing machine needle continued to tremble slightly.
Blood dripped along the edge of the machine, making a faint sound as it met the cold floor—"drip."
Chen Ya continued to sew clothes with a detached yet serious demeanor, undeterred, the pedal beneath his feet made a steady "thump."
Thump!
Thump!
Thump...
The two sounds seemed to blend into one.
Yuan Dabiao's ferocity did not diminish with Old Li's screams; a satisfied sneer even appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He surveyed his surroundings, his gaze like a warning to the other prisoners that any slack and resistance would come at a heavy price.
"Get to work, all of you!" Yuan Dabiao's voice echoed in the workshop, "Don't slack off. Anyone not working diligently will face the same fate!"
