NOVGO.NET Chapter 236: Tearing Out the Answer
Chapter 236: Tearing Out the Answer
Since Xie Wanshou seemed to have captured the heart of one of the prominent figures of the mysterious organization, she could be used as bait to lure them out.
He didn’t believe that the man who had spent so much to win her heart would do nothing once he found out that Xie Wanshou had fallen into his hands.
Moreover, there was another way for him to learn where this mysterious organization was located.
The two Spirit Severing Realm cultivators who had been unconscious until now.
Bai Zihan’s gaze shifted to Kong Zhanghong.
“Wake them!”
Kong Zhanghong didn’t dare delay.
He crouched beside the two unconscious Spirit Severing cultivators and barked,
“Wake up! You hear me? Wake up! Young Master wants you two now!”
Well, it didn’t matter that Bai Zihan had business with them if they were still unconscious.
SLAP!
When there was no response, he slapped one sharply across the face—then the other.
SLAP! SLAP!
Even after several slaps, there was still nothing.
“Tsk!”
Clicking his tongue in frustration, he rushed to the corner, grabbed a wooden bucket of water, and hurried back.
Without ceremony, he poured it over their faces in heavy, splashing bursts.
Still no reaction.
Xie Wanshou watched with pity as Kong Zhanghong treated the two Spirit Severing cultivators as if they were ordinary criminals, while Bai Zihan observed with amusement.
He didn’t mind what Kong Zhanghong did to wake them and found it interesting to see whether he would truly succeed with his method.
After all, a Spirit Severing Realm body was quite tough, and normal methods might not be effective on them.
But he was willing to wait, as he didn’t necessarily have anything else to do.
After several more slaps and harsh shouts, their eyelids finally fluttered open.
At last, after much hard work, Kong Zhanghong managed to wake the two of them up.
“Argh! What happened?”
They groaned in pain, feeling the sting on their faces as if slapped, and then became aware of their drenched, dripping state.
Moments later, the other one also stirred—eyes blinking open, faces clouded in confusion before memory returned.
Their gazes darted to the far wall, to the splintered wood and broken stone where they’d been embedded. Then to the figure seated at the desk.
Recognition struck.
They stiffened.
“You…” one began, but his voice caught, as if the rest of the words refused to come.
“Finally come to your senses?”
Bai Zihan asked.
“How could you defeat two of us? This must be a nightmare!”
Shan couldn’t believe it despite everything happening before him.
How could they accept that a youth, more than a century younger than them, had defeated them effortlessly despite being outnumbered?
There was no way they could.
“I don’t care whether you believe this is reality or a nightmare. Just answer me this honestly,” Bai Zihan continued.
“Where is your organization located?”
The room fell silent.
The two exchanged a glance, and slowly… a sneer crept across their lips.
“I don’t know what kind of trick you used. But there is no way we would tell—”
They didn’t finish.
A sound like a muffled crack echoed through the office.
The first cultivator’s face went white, veins bulging on his forehead.
His breath turned ragged as Bai Zihan’s Qi slammed into his meridians, forcing its way through every channel, every vein, like molten metal poured into fragile glass.
He gasped—a sharp, guttural sound—as the pain exploded outward, radiating from his core to every limb.
The second cultivator surged forward instinctively, but a single glance from Bai Zihan froze him mid-motion.
The calm voice came again.
“I’ll ask again. Where?”
The second one laughed—a strained, breathless sound.
“You… think pain will—”
Bai Zihan’s right hand twitched. The cultivator’s dantian shattered with a crisp, almost delicate snap.
“AHHHHH!”
A scream tore through the office.
Bai Zihan didn’t even blink. He simply watched.
He turned his gaze to the first one again.
“You next!”
The first cultivator’s lips trembled—not from fear alone, but from the unbearable force of Qi still flooding his system, overloading it until it felt like his meridians would explode.
Every second stretched into eternity.
His body arched involuntarily, sweat soaking his robes, but still—still—he glared at Bai Zihan.
“You… won’t… get… anything… from us…”
Bai Zihan’s smirk was almost imperceptible.
“Good!”
His Qi surged again, this time compressing violently inside the man’s core, each pulse like a hammer shattering stone from the inside out.
The cultivator’s scream went hoarse, breaking into ragged gasps.
Still, despite the agony, neither man spoke.
Suddenly, both cultivators’ jaws twitched—subtle, but enough to catch Bai Zihan’s notice.
A faint grinding sound followed.
Poison!
Of course.
Almost every trained assassin or loyalist from a shadow organization carried a capsule hidden between their molars, ready to end their life the moment capture became inevitable.
But Bai Zihan had been expecting exactly this.
Before either could bite down, his figure blurred.
Two sharp, bone-crunching CRACKS echoed in the room as his fists smashed into their jaws with surgical precision.
“AHHHHHH!”
Teeth shattered, fragments and blood spraying from their mouths.
The poison capsules clinked harmlessly against the floorboards.
Both men gasped in agony, one clutching at his jaw, the other spitting out blood and broken enamel.
Their eyes were wide—not just from the pain, but from the realization that their final escape had been ripped away.
Bai Zihan straightened slowly, shaking the crimson droplets from his knuckles as if the effort had been nothing.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know?”
His voice was calm, almost casual—but beneath it, a cold certainty lingered, the promise of what came next.
“You won’t be dying so easily until I get my answers.”
Their fate was already decided.
What awaited them now… was not death.
It was something far worse.
The room filled with the ragged, guttural wails of the two Spirit Severing cultivators.
Their bodies jerked and spasmed under the crushing weight of Bai Zihan’s Qi, sweat pouring from their brows, their eyes bloodshot and wild.
Yet… still, they said nothing.
Truly loyal.
Or so it seemed.
Bai Zihan’s gaze hardened. He didn’t believe it—how could mere assassins be so loyal to their organization?
He wanted to torture them more, but if he pressed further, their bodies would collapse long before their will did.
And then… they’d be useless to him.
With a slow exhale, he withdrew his Qi—just enough for them to slump forward, coughing and wheezing, their pain momentarily dulled.
He shut his eyes briefly.
Time to use another card.
“Senior,” he called inwardly. “Wake up!”
A faint ripple echoed in the depths of his consciousness, like an ancient beast stirring from slumber.
“What is it?”
Immortal Emperor Feilian’s voice asked.
“I need the location of their organization. These two refuse to speak, no matter what I do. Do you have a method to open their mouths?”
A pause. Then came a low hum of thought.
“Hmph… if they won’t speak, their memories will. Soul Search will give you what you want.”
Bai Zihan’s eyes opened slightly. Indeed, that would be great.
“However, there are side effect. If done cleanly—none. But if something goes wrong…”
“…their minds will be torn apart. They’ll either die instantly or become drooling husks for the rest of their miserable lives.”
Bai Zihan’s lips curled faintly.
“I don’t care about their lives.”
“Then it’s simple!”
“Can you perform it?”
“Hmph! Just two Spirit Severing Realm cultivators. Not a problem even in this state!”
Bai Zihan’s gaze turned back to the two cultivators.
“Then… let’s begin!”
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