The iron gate slammed shut behind her with a heavy thud.

Qin Qinxi couldn’t help but glance back.

The door was thick and tall.

When she turned around again, she froze.

Inside was a courtyard.

A row of gray, drab bungalows.

At every entrance stood fully armed men.

They wore tactical face masks, bulletproof vests, and held AKs in their hands.

Qin Qinxi’s eyes widened.

She didn’t dare look any longer. She lowered her head and followed Bali closely.

They entered the building.

Suddenly, the surroundings grew dim.

There was a metallic, fishy stench in the air—not the smell of rotting flesh, but the sharp tang of iron, blood, and a faint hint of disinfectant.

From afar came sounds.

Cries, muffled as if someone’s mouth were covered.

And then the crackling of electric shocks—zap, zap—and sharper, agonizing screams.

Qin Qinxi’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her throat.

Summoning her courage, she asked Bali ahead, her voice trembling: “Excuse me… where are we going?”

Bali didn’t turn around or answer.

Qin Qinxi’s mind went blank.

Was this man really going to kill her after all?

She followed Bali down one corridor after another.

Some doors were open, others closed.

She didn’t dare peek inside the open ones, but she caught glimpses out of the corner of her eye.

There were cages, iron chains, and curled-up human figures.

She was certain now.

This was nothing less than a private prison.

They reached a large, open-air courtyard.

Here there was a shooting range, targets, and…

Qin Qinxi’s footsteps faltered.

A group of people were blindfolded, their hands tied behind their backs, kneeling before the shooting range.

Seven or eight of them. Some were trembling; others lay perfectly still.

Several heavily armed men stood behind the shooting range.

As Qin Qinxi followed Bali past, halfway through, a gunshot rang out.

Not just one shot—several in quick succession.

Bang, bang, bang—the sound merged into a continuous barrage.

Qin Qinxi saw the kneeling figures collapse limply, one after another, like dominoes toppled by a push.

She let out a scream.

It wasn’t intentional—it just burst from her throat on its own.

Bali stopped and turned to look at her, his brow furrowed.

Qin Qinxi bit her lower lip tightly. A chill ran down her spine. Her blood seemed to flow backward, freezing from the soles of her feet all the way up to her head.

“Brother…” she began, her voice shaking uncontrollably, “Did he tell you to bring me here to be killed?”

Tears silently streamed down her face—she hadn’t even realized they were there.

Bali glanced at her but said nothing. He simply turned and kept walking.

“Hurry up and catch up,” his voice came from ahead. “Otherwise I’ll shoot you right now.”

Qin Qinxi swallowed hard. She raised her hand to wipe the tears from her face and followed, trembling.

Finally, they reached the door of a sealed room, and Bali stopped.

Qin Qinxi stood behind him, able to hear the sounds coming from inside.

Muffled thuds—one after another—as if something were being smashed against flesh.

From within came muffled groans, suppressed by a man who was in excruciating pain yet dared not cry out.

Someone was being beaten.

Bali knocked on the door.

“Boss.”

Qin Qinxi jerked her head up.

“Come in.”

That voice.

Deep, husky, with a grainy quality—like smoke.

But there was pure malice in his tone.

Bali pushed the door open.

Qin Qinxi hurried inside.

And then she froze.

A man was hanging upside down.

His ankles were tied to a rope, his head pointing downward, suspended in midair. His whole body was covered in blood.

Blood dripped from his hair onto the floor, pooling into a small puddle.

It was Tuxi.

His face was unrecognizable—swollen, bruised, smeared with blood.

His eyes were closed; it was unclear whether he was unconscious or awake.

End of Chapter 21: Chapter 21