In the cramped and dim interrogation room, droplets on the moss slipped down the damp walls, much like the sweat trickling from Aijia Lang's forehead.
At this moment, his hands and feet were bound to the chair, which was anchored to the floor.
He had struggled for a long time, but all he felt was the pain of the leather ropes chafing his skin.
The burning sensation made Aijia Lang involuntarily groan lightly.
He really couldn't fathom why only he showed up on the planned day of the attack.
Where had those cowardly bastards gone?
The answer was simple, except for their leader Favalari, all his associates had been captured.
Before the Kush Youths arrived, Jilo had rushed day and night on horseback to Autumn Dusk Island, taking two days to drag out all three Demon Hunters.
Through a small window hole behind Aijia Lang, Horn could see him desperately twisting his body.
