Ming Dynasty: Summoning game players at the beginning

Chapter 34 Those Are My Brothers
In the battle at the yamen, the county administrative team suffered heavy losses. All the chief officials and clerks were killed. The only chief official still alive was a ninth-rank clerk, equivalent to the director of the government office.

He was hit hard on the head, and although his life was saved with the doctor's full treatment, it is still unknown how long it will take for him to wake up.

The other six deputy clerks did not dare to act on their own and refused to obey.

So everyone had no choice but to invite Mr. Zhao, a well-known figure in the county, to come out and take charge of all county affairs.

Mr. Zhao, whose real name was Zhao Siwei, was a successful candidate in the imperial examination. After serving as a local official for over a decade, he resigned and returned home. Leveraging his fame and wealth, he founded a county militia with the support of the county magistrate.

Regardless of his personal qualifications and prestige, or his hatred for the beggar thief who killed his son, it was reasonable for Mr. Zhao to serve as the acting county magistrate.

With a backbone, the county government, which was on the verge of collapse, began to function again.

Mr. Zhao's first instruction was to force the beggars to tell him where their lair was. Three captives were imprisoned deep in the death row, including Yang Wenli who was deliberately arrested.

The bailiffs brought a recliner for Mr. Zhao so that he could sit in prison and watch the torture scenes.

"Where is your den of thieves? Tell me or not! Tell me or not!"

Several jailers raised their wet whips and beat the prisoner's chest fiercely, cursing and questioning him as they beat him.

However, the three captives were quite stubborn. One of them stiffened his neck and stared directly at the elegantly dressed Mr. Zhao. His bloodshot eyes seemed to be able to kill anyone, and he kept spewing obscenities. "All the corrupt officials, die! As long as I can live one more day, I will exterminate all the powerful and evil gentry, the wealthy and powerful, and the evil people!"

The other man smacked his lips, his tongue rolling back and forth in his mouth, his tone full of contempt and disdain, "Didn't you eat? Harder, harder!"

"Okay, okay, I told you to be tough!"

The jailer pulled out an iron plate from the burning firewood pile nearby and pressed it hard against the prisoner's chest. The skin instantly made a sizzling sound, followed by a burnt smell with a slight meaty aroma.

"Oh oh oh yeah! That's it, so cool and comfortable, come again, come again, come again! Is this all you can do? Use it all for me! If I frown, I'll write your name upside down!"

"No pain?"

The jailer was dumbfounded. He had been working in the prison for decades, and this was the first time he saw someone being burned by a branding iron and still being able to remain calm and boast.

Is there something wrong with the soldering iron?

The jailer picked up another branding iron and brought it closer. He felt a scorching heat wave coming towards him, almost burning his eyebrows.

no problem.

Then he pressed the branding iron against the prisoner's chest. The familiar sizzling sound came out again, but the prisoner still had a happy face and even had the leisure to hum a cheerful tune -

"Two tigers, two tigers, running fast, running fast, one has no eyes, one has no tail... It's useless, useless, useless, it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt! Come again, come again, come again! Let me fight the branding iron for another three hundred rounds!"

The jailer was impressed. It was the first time he had seen someone who was not afraid of pain. "You are awesome."

The two captives were very tough, but Yang Wenli was the only one who was shaking his head and wailing uncontrollably, looking as if he couldn't bear it. His head kept drooping down, as if he had fainted from the pain.

He actually felt that the torture process was really boring, so he logged off to play a game of CS.

Seeing that the attitudes of the three captives had already been revealed, Mr. Zhao's brain was working rapidly to think of a countermeasure.

Just as the jailer was about to change the torture device, he heard Master Zhao behind him cough lightly. When he turned his head to look, Master Zhao gave him a wink and then looked at "Yang Wenli" who had fainted from the pain.

The jailer, who had been in the job for many years, was a shrewd person. He immediately understood Master Zhao's hint. He grabbed a wooden bucket of clean water and poured it over the unconscious Yang Wenli.

There was a loud crash, but no response.

"Huh? Beaten to death?" The jailer hurried over to check the man's breath.

Well, still alive.

"Brother, it's time to wake up. It's time to eat!" The prisoner with two charcoal scars from the burns was in high spirits, as if he was not a prisoner, but was playing an immersive script-killing game.

After a while, the "unconscious" Yang Wenli really woke up. Seeing the audience wake up, the jailer quickly performed a show, "Do you know who this master is?"

"None of my business, old man is going to die anyway."

"Is there a reward for answering correctly? If there is no reward, what do you want me to answer? Is he your mother's son?"

"you!"

Faced with two stubborn and unresponsive "stubborn monkeys," the jailer was so anxious that he almost gasped for breath. However, with Master Zhao beside him, he replied seriously, "This is the founder of the militia in this county. He was an official for over ten years and is now unemployed. Master Zhao is well-known throughout the county!"

"Oh, he's Master Zhao? The miserable old man whose son we killed, who can only see his son off, and will eventually have no descendants? Sigh, he's already so old, I wonder if he can still make an effort to have a baby to carry on the family line. I don't think it's going to be easy..."

"!"

Mr. Zhao's calm character, which he had cultivated over decades, was almost broken by these words. Maintaining basic composure in front of the enemy who killed his son was already his limit, but the foul language of the two people was constantly challenging his limit.

He slammed the handle of the rattan chair and said personally, "No need to waste time talking nonsense. Tell me the truth about the location of your lair. I will keep you safe and give you a job as a militia teacher. You will have no worries for the rest of your life."

"See? You caused chaos in the county government office and killed so many officials. This is a capital crime, and Master Zhao is still willing to give you a chance to live. Why don't you thank Master Zhao for his grace?"

"I thank you for eighteen generations!" The foul-mouthed king cursed, "If you dare, untie the restraints and let's fight. I promise not to smash your head into your stomach and make it spray out of your asshole."

"Sure." The player with two charcoal-black marks on his chest raised his head and forced a wicked smile, "As long as Master Zhao lets his wife and concubine sleep with me for a few nights."

"Ah! You killed my son and insulted my wife and concubines. This is too much!"

Master Zhao jumped up instantly, snatched the sword from the militia's waist, and stabbed the foul-mouthed brother and the teasing brother with one sword each.

"Damn it, you have no moral ethics. Why did you use a knife when you could just talk peacefully..." The two men were spitting out blood. One of them was still chattering nonsense with a mouthful of blood.

Only after the two captives were completely dead did the furious Mr. Zhao calm down.

He was asked to kill two prisoners who were finally captured before he could even ask them any questions. If the last person died, it would mean that the "beggar thieves" who were causing chaos everywhere would still be at large.

So he changed his strategy and asked the jailer to untie Yang Wenli, apply ointment on him, change him into new clothes, and then bring him good wine and food, as well as several small boxes held in both hands.

"As long as you tell me the hiding place of the beggar thief, all these will be yours." Mr. Zhao had a kind face and his tone revealed a gentleness that he tried hard to perform.

He deliberately opened a small box, revealing the white silver inside, and personally poured wine for Yang Wenli.

"For me?" Yang Wenli pointed at the silver in the box.

"That's right, as long as you give me the answers I want, these are all yours."

"But doesn't Mr. Zhao know that the Beggars are all my beloved relatives and friends. We have been through fire and water together. How could I betray them?" Yang Wenli said as if it was a matter of course.

Master Zhao looked around. The jailers raised their instruments of torture: branding irons, clamps, and needles. "They're too far away to save you. You don't want to be tortured to death on the rack again, do you?"

When Yang Wenli thought about being forced to withdraw from the CS game that was about to win, he showed an expression of regret and embarrassment.

Seeing Yang Wenli's "disguise of weakness," Master Zhao seized the opportunity to pursue him. "You've caused such a big disturbance in the shopping mall. If the capital hears about this, won't they send soldiers to help? By then, even if every member of your beggar army has three heads and six arms, how many can you kill?"

"No, Master Zhao, you didn't understand what I meant. I meant - you have to pay more!"

"Good! Very straightforward!" Master Zhao clapped his hands, and all the wooden boxes were opened, full of white silver, totaling nearly one thousand.

"I can personally lead the way to the location of the Beggar Army's lair."

The laughter of Master Zhao and other militiamen echoed in the death cell, and as Yang Wenli stroked the pile of silver, a sly smile was hidden beneath the lid of the box.

It's all part of the plan.

(End of this chapter)