Dragon Clan: My Dad is Ange

During his wandering years, there were always a few of these hypocritical guys who beat him up when he was still a homeless child.

He hated these people from the bottom of his heart.

And when his eyes swept across the faces of some handsome guys who were chatting and laughing with their girlfriends, anger would instantly ignite in his eyes.

He also didn't like these handsome men. He himself was plain-looking, and coupled with long-term malnutrition, he was skinny and often looked down upon by others.

Those handsome men can easily win the favor of women, but he is unwilling to force women, nor does he bother to find prostitutes to vent his desires.

Like an ascetic monk who is immersed in extreme asceticism, his brain has long been immersed in the sea of ​​desire, but his body still maintains a pathological "neatness".

He Ming sighed helplessly. He still hadn't found any suitable prey till today. He had come out to "take a break" for a while, but he got nothing.

And at this moment, a warm blue appeared in his eyes.

The blue color was so eye-catching in the crowd. On the crowded street, a tall, handsome man in a black windbreaker was standing next to a stand.

Her black hair was scattered randomly, but her eyes were as bright as deep sapphires, emitting a charming light.

He stood quietly in the crowd, his elegant demeanor forming a sharp contrast to the hustle and bustle around him, as if he were a nobleman from another world.

Chapter 97 Take a deep breath, dizziness is normal

For evil spirits like He Ming, killing is sometimes like an instinct, just to satisfy their twisted psychology and bloodthirsty desires, just as it is natural for people to eat when they are hungry.

But if you still have a little bit of rationality, you will choose the more attractive target like choosing delicious food.

The man standing in the center of the crowd was a type He Ming had never seen before.

He is so handsome and has such an outstanding temperament, just like the most precious gem in the world.

A "gem" of this level should only be placed in the center of the most luxurious museum, carefully surrounded by the most sturdy anti-theft glass cabinet, for the world to admire.

But now, such a "gem" is so casually "placed" on the roadside. As long as He Ming is willing, he only needs to bend down slightly and his hand can touch it, then he can hold it tightly in his hand and put it in his pocket as his own.

He Ming subconsciously licked the corner of his mouth, his eyes revealing greed and excitement, and then he followed slowly without making any sound.

Ye Fan felt a little bored at the moment. After watching on the platform for a while, he continued to move towards other remote corners.

To be honest, he didn't have any particularly good ideas for finding the group of defecting ghosts.

After all, the Eight Snake Clans and the Fierce Ghosts mobilized a large number of manpower to search repeatedly, but they could not find any trace of them.

And he himself did not have a suitable word spirit for tracking.

"If only I had the Word Spirit 'Prophet'."

Ye Fan sighed helplessly.

He still remembered that it was at a freshman social gathering in the same class as Lu Mingfei, where a boy possessed a spirit of words that could predict the future.

Even though the A-rank hybrid could only see fragments, if he used it with his royal bloodline, the effect would surely be completely different.

Just as he turned into an alley, a sound of heavy breathing suddenly broke into his ears.

He Ming could no longer control the demon in his heart. He couldn't wait to tear the man in front of him into pieces and taste the hot blood spurting out of his carotid artery.

Without hesitation, he unleashed his Spirit Words - Pool of Thunder. In an instant, dense white-blue lightning enveloped his entire body. The lightning spread wildly, forming a shimmering thunder field in the blink of an eye.

There were continuous crackling sounds. He Ming controlled the intensity of the thunder, just enough to paralyze an adult's body.

He wanted to paralyze the man's body first, and then slowly enjoy this "feast".

Hearing a noise behind him, the man turned around.

Feeling the other person's gaze on him, He Ming suddenly felt an indescribable sense of accomplishment in his heart.

It was as if the refugees were suddenly noticed by the almighty monarch.

This sense of accomplishment made his face flush and even more excited. He Ming rushed forward like a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey.

He clearly saw a hint of surprise in the man's blue eyes, but the surprise was too faint, without panic or the fear he longed to see.

What he wanted to see was the other person showing deep fear in the face of death!

However, the next moment, He Ming's eyes suddenly went dark.

All that remained in his mind was a vague impression, as if his jaw had been hit hard by a sledgehammer, and the pain was as severe as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer.

Immediately afterwards, a strong feeling of numbness surged into his brain like a tide, and soon his consciousness fell into complete chaos.

The cold water hit He Ming's face like a slap in the face. He Ming opened his eyes suddenly, and his nostrils were filled with the smell of disinfectant.

He was breathing heavily, as if he had just been pulled ashore from the deep sea.

As his vision blurred, he saw a young man in a Japanese executive uniform standing awkwardly in front of him, holding a plastic bucket in his hand.

"Awake...Are you awake?"

The man's voice was soft, as if he wasn't sure whether he should speak or not.

Seeing He Ming wake up, he subconsciously took half a step back, and the cuffs of his uniform were wrinkled by himself.

Ignoring the other party, He Ming quickly looked around.

What came into view was a sealed room.

There are thick concrete walls all around, which have obviously been reinforced and thickened, and there is not a single crack on the walls.

The only light source in the entire room was the incandescent lamp above his head. It was so bright that it illuminated the entire space like daylight, but it also made He Ming feel inexplicably depressed.

He knew in his heart that this was obviously an interrogation room used specifically for interrogating half-bloods.

"Where is this place?! Where did you take me? I'm telling you, I won't tell you a word! I won't reveal a single word to you, the beasts raised by my family!"

He Ming roared madly, his voice echoing in the small space, carrying his last stubbornness and unwillingness.

When he saw the Japanese executive branch uniform, he knew he had fallen into enemy hands.

After catching birds all day, he was eventually pecked in the eye by an eagle.

He Ming smiled bitterly in his heart, and he was convinced of his mistake.

After all, it was because he did not investigate the hunting target properly that he ended up like this. Even if he paid with his life for it, he seemed to have nothing to complain about.

"Don't yell, don't yell. Actually, I don't know why I arrested you. Mr. Ye asked me to come here to interrogate you. You have no idea how terrifying that man is. He suddenly barged in, looking like a lion."

"He was holding you in his arms at the time, and he wanted one of us to interrogate you. It just so happened that I was the only one in the entire executive department in the office at the time. You were actually unconscious for less than an hour, and I just wasted five minutes getting some water."

The man kept on chattering and trying to find topics to talk about, even looking a little embarrassed.

He Ming looked at the other person. The other person's face was rather young, and he still had the energy of someone who had been locked up in the family for a long time.

It looks like a fledgling, He Ming thought to himself.

This isn't great news, but it's not too bad either.

The young birds may not be very harsh in their attacks, but at least they will not torture people gradually like the old birds, causing them to suffer mental breakdown.

He Ming closed his eyes and prepared to wait for the next torture.

But at this moment, a nagging voice came into his ears.

"Relax, Shoutian, this is just a small interrogation, don't be nervous."

He Ming was stunned for a moment, a trace of doubt and discomfort on his face, and he subconsciously said:

"My name isn't Shouda."

Hearing this, the man gave him a shy smile, but that smile seemed extremely strange to He Ming. He only heard the man say a little embarrassedly:

"I'm not talking about you, my name is Shoutian."

At this moment, a chill quietly crept up He Ming's spine.

He just felt his scalp tingling, and an unprecedented fear surged in his heart. At that moment, he even had an urge to tell others about the stronghold.

But the man in front of him was obviously still in a highly nervous state. Before He Ming could speak again, he had already taken action, leaving him no chance to speak.

Chapter 98 You didn’t ask? What did you ask?

In the interrogation room, the sounds of sobbing and whipping were intertwined, as if one had walked into some strange filming scene.

"You're going to tell me or not! Tell me or not!! Tell me or not!!!"

Shoutian roared hysterically and swung the whip in his hand vigorously.

Each blow was fierce and made a crisp and frightening sound when it hit He Ming.

He Ming's body was stretched on the iron stake like a fully drawn bow.

His knuckles turned white from excessive force, and the chain left deep bloody marks on his wrists where the bones were visible.

A wild-beast whimpering escaped from the throat blocked by the cloth, just like a wounded dolphin on a winter night in Tokyo Bay.

The ghost-beating whip in Shoutian's hand is an alchemical instrument specially made by the Eight Snake Clans for interrogating "ghosts".

This seemingly ordinary whip causes 10 times more pain than whipping the skin with a bamboo stick dipped in water, and even three times the pain of childbirth.

This thing can make the toughest Yakuza members cry out for their mothers within three whips.

But He Ming had already been whipped sixty-three times.

At this moment, the horrible pain was like a surging tide, invading He Ming's body wave after wave. Such excruciating torture lasted for a full hour!

The pain came in waves like a tide. Every time he thought it was the limit, but the next whip would always prove him wrong.

What's even more ridiculous is that this whip-wielding idiot didn't even ask a decent question.

He Ming felt his consciousness gradually becoming blurred, his body felt like it was being pierced by millions of needles at the same time, and every inch of his skin was trembling in severe pain.

He knew that if he continued like this, he would probably be beaten to death here.

And this Shoutian is simply a foolish young man with no clue!

"This guy just keeps on beating himself up! Why don't you ask something useful? Also, cover my mouth. I can't say anything even if I want to!"

He Ming's heart was filled with grief, anger and helplessness, but with his mouth tightly covered by a cloth, he could only make indistinct whimpering sounds.

In this depressing atmosphere, the door of the interrogation room slowly opened with a creak, and Ye Fan walked in with steady steps.

He was still wearing his iconic black windbreaker, looking cold and mysterious.

Those blue eyes, as always, were filled with warmth, as if they could dispel the bloodiness and depression that permeated the room.