"You don't need to worry, she can't hear us. Now, the real game begins."
A ghostly voice rose in the glass room, accompanied by the whining cries of a baby.
Little Tingye had been crying for what felt like eternity, his throat hoarse with sobs. Just when he was about to stop, it was as if someone had pricked him with a needle, and he started to cry heart-wrenchingly again.
"Enough, what exactly do you want to do? Don't hurt my grandson. Whatever you want, I will agree to it."
Ye Zhanxing's old eyes brimmed with tears, his heart aching unbearably.
He had lived half his life and had finally anticipated the birth of his own daughter, as well as a grandson.
He simply couldn't bear to see his grandson harmed in the slightest.
As Ye Zhanxing struggled, the iron chains on his body began to tighten, almost cutting into his flesh.
"Don't move, the more you panic, the more pleased he will be."
