The two demonic guards patrolling the corridor stopped, staring at the abyssal prodigy with expressions of cringe.
They were accustomed to captives weeping, threatening them, or begging for mercy.
They were not accustomed to a hostage treating their high-security sex-dungeon like a five-star vacation resort.
"Is he broken?" one guard whispered to the other, genuinely unnerved by Zechuan's bright, goofy smile. "I hit him with the suppression baton twice on the way down, and he thanked me for the deep-tissue massage."
"Just ignore him," the other guard shuddered, backing away. "The Madam said they are all defective. Especially the silver-haired one in the corner. Do not make eye contact with it."
In the darkest, coldest corner of the cell, Xie Wangchen sat in a lotus position.
He was not plotting an escape or raging against his captivity. The Ice Demon was currently experiencing a state of euphoric zen.
Wangchen knew the truth.
He knew Ji'an was a woman.
