Outside, the house was unassuming, but through one of the doors and down the stairs was a hidden interrogation room, which could instill fear with its appearance alone. Dried blood tainted the already weathered walls. The floor radiated bone-chilling coldness. The sound of whipping rang and echoed.

Nan Xun made his way to the depth of the room. A man was tied to a pillar. Surrounding him were a few of Nan Xun’s confidantes. His most trusted shadowguard brandished a whip. He bowled respectfully when he saw Nan Xun. “This man is difficult to break. I’ve whipped him for an hour, but he said nothing.”

Nan Xun scoffed and narrowed his eyes at the unkempt man. Without warning, he splashed the barrel of salt water at him.

“Agh!”

“Hm? How does it feel to get salt water in your wounds?” Nan Xun picked up a thin iron rod and lifted the man’s chin, forcing him to look up.

The man was a spy who...