Over an hour later, Qiao Mo awoke groggily.
She struggled to open her eyes, the back of her neck still throbbed like it had been struck.
After a moment of disorientation, she finally came to her senses.
It seemed those people had brought her here.
Lying on the cold ground, she surveyed her surroundings.
This appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, dark and damp, airtight, exuding a musty smell.
There was only a small ventilation opening about two meters high in the distance, with a few rusty iron bars embedded in it.
She slightly moved her arms, only to find her hands were bound behind her back.
Just a little movement, and the coarse rope painfully scraped her wrists.
Qiao Mo frowned, bent her body to look at her feet, only to see they were also tightly bound, unable to move.
With effort, she squirmed on the ground for a while, approached a stone pillar, and after some time, Qiao Mo finally managed to sit up.
She panted heavily, surveying her surroundings once more.
