Chapter 179: Extreme Fear

"Close the door and lock it!" Ma San suddenly ordered.

"Click," the heavy oak door slammed shut, and the lock's clank rang sharply in the silent banquet hall. The sound was like a heavy hammer striking each person's heart. The Foreigners glanced at each other, fear spreading in their eyes.

At that moment, Captain Shi Misi stepped forward. The Yingjili officer straightened his posture, his right hand calmly resting on the sidearm at his waist.

"Mr. Ma San," he said in an official tone, "I, as an officer of the Yingjili Royal Navy, warn you that your actions have seriously violated international law. If you do not cease this barbaric conduct now…"

"Oh?" Ma San looked at him with interest, "If I don't stop, what will you do?"

"I will be forced to take necessary measures," Shi Misi's fingers were already on the trigger, "My sidearm holds six bullets, enough…"

Before he could finish, a "Snap" cracked. The cigar in Ma San's hand flew out, striking Shi Misi's face. Ash splattered, leaving a burn on the handsome officer's visage.

"Ah!" Shi Misi cried out in pain, instinctively reaching for his sidearm.

But Ma San moved faster. He lunged forward in a single stride, his right hand flashing out like lightning, already gripping Shi Misi's wrist.

"What? Trying to draw your gun?" Ma San sneered, applying extra force, and with a "Snap," Shi Misi's wrist emitted a crisp cracking sound.

The sidearm fell to the ground, kicked aside by Ma San. The Yingjili Captain turned pale with pain, cold sweat streaming.

"You Foreign devils," Ma San released his grip, letting Shi Misi slump to the floor, "Used to running rampant in Shen City, thinking everyone must fear you, right?"

"Come, let's start with this Captain," Ma San said with a cold laugh, "Let him taste what fear feels like."

Several henchmen immediately stepped forward, hoisting Shi Misi's arms. The Yingjili Captain, while clinging to his military dignity, already showed terror in his eyes.

Ma San lit a fresh cigar, pacing before Shi Misi, "Captain, let me tell you an interesting story."

He exhaled a smoke ring, "Did you know? In medieval Europe, there was a special punishment. They would blindfold the criminal and hang them, just like you now…"

Lao Wu understood, immediately producing a black cloth, covering Shi Misi's eyes.

"And then," Ma San's voice deepened, "they would slowly insert a sharp bamboo rod into the criminal's thigh, placing a copper basin beneath…"

He signaled his men to bring a copper basin, setting it at Shi Misi's feet. The crisp metallic clang rang sharply in the silent banquet hall.

"The most interesting part," Ma San took a sharpened bamboo skewer from the box, lightly tracing Shi Misi's leg, "In darkness, the prisoner can only hear his own blood dripping, tick‑tick, into the basin. That sound drives a person mad…"

"No… don't…" Shi Misi finally broke down, his voice trembling, "I am a Yingjili officer…"

"Officer?" Ma San sneered, the bamboo skewer already pressed against Shi Misi's thigh, "Here, you are nothing. Now, let's hear whether a Yingjili officer's blood is also red."

The skewer slowly pierced, Shi Misi let out a harrowing scream. Fresh blood ran down his leg, dripping into the copper basin, producing a crisp sound.

"Do you hear?" Ma San whispered in his ear, "Tick‑tick… this is the sound of death."

The other Foreigners in the banquet hall were terrified, their faces drained of color.

Shi Misi's wailing echoed through the banquet hall, his body convulsing violently, cold sweat and blood soaking his uniform. In the darkness, he could only hear his own blood dripping in the basin, tick‑tick, like the footsteps of Death.

"Please… I beg you…" The Yingjili Captain finally collapsed completely, "I was wrong… I'll say anything…"

Ma San, as if not hearing him, leisurely walked to the gramophone, "How about some music?"

He casually set a vinyl record. An elegant waltz melody filled the blood‑soaked banquet hall, forming a bizarre symphony with Shi Misi's screams.

"Ah, such beautiful music," Ma San sighed, closing his eyes, swaying gently with the rhythm, "Your Foreign music truly has style."

The Foreigners in the banquet hall watched, feeling a chill down their spines. This man torturing while savoring an elegant waltz, the contrast evoked a fear more terrifying than any violence.

"Lao Wu," Ma San leisurely exhaled a smoke ring, "Add another bamboo skewer to the Captain, let him feel this wonderful rhythm."

"No! Don't!" Shi Misi let out a desperate wail.

Yet soon his screams merged with the waltz, echoing through the banquet hall. Ma San kept his eyes closed, a smile of enjoyment on his face, as if admiring some exquisite art.

Yue Hanxun and the other Foreigners shivered.

The man before them was not just a vulgar dock thug, but a true demon.

As seconds ticked by, Shi Misi began to feel a chill seeping from his marrow. The weakness from continual blood loss, combined with the relentless tick‑tick in the darkness, amplified the terror of death within him.

"Please… spare me…" his voice hoarse.

Ma San merely gently swayed his glass, humming softly with the music.

In desperation, Shi Misi suddenly erupted in a hysterical curse, "You damned Dongya pig! I curse you! I will make the entire Yingjili fleet…"

"Oh?" Ma San raised his head with interest, "Seems the Captain still isn't hurt enough. Lao Wu, make the wound larger."

"Yes, elder brother."

As the bamboo skewer was forced deeper, Shi Misi let out a harrowing scream. More blood gushed out, the tick‑tick grew denser.

"No… don't… I was wrong… I beg you…" his curse turned into a pitiful plea.

But Ma San ignored him, lightly tapping to the music, "Listen, how beautiful this rhythm is. Tick‑tick, just like Death dancing."

After a few more minutes, Shi Misi's voice grew weaker. His body trembled incessantly, unable to form full sentences. Finally, the Yingjili Captain could no longer hold on, his head tilting as he collapsed unconscious.

Ma San glanced at his pocket watch, "Fifteen minutes, still some soldier's spirit."