In the northwest corner of the industrial park, inside a small building.
In a tiny room of barely ten square meters, the windows were completely sealed off, leaving only a dim yellow light illuminating the entire room.
The bare ceiling, undoubtedly, wouldn't have any chandelier installed.
A thick nylon rope was tied to an exposed steel ring on the ceiling, and Sun Jinzhong, with his hands bound by this nylon rope, was hanging upside down here, for nearly twenty-four hours.
Not a grain of rice consumed, not a drop of water drunk, his lips had cracked from dryness, and his entire body seemed to have passed out, with only the slight heaving of his chest indicating he was still alive.
Bare-chested, wearing only a pair of large shorts on his body, his front, back, and legs were covered in ghastly whip marks.
Some of these whip marks had already scabbed over, while others were still oozing fresh blood.
Besides him, this room also held six or seven other men and women.
