```html
Jack Thompson’s pupils suddenly contracted, a low whimper escaping his throat, as if he wanted to defend himself but couldn’t manage to speak.
The cold voice continued, "Now, I want to play a ga with you. The ga is called ’No Screaming.’ The rules are simple: as long as you stay silent, you can survive. There is a key tied to a fish hook in your stomach, which is the only tool to unlock the collar on your neck. You have one minute to grab the fishing line outside your mouth and pull the key from your stomach. If you fail, the bomb in the collar will explode, severing your neck and silencing you forever."
"But be aware," the voice paused with a hint of mockery, "the tir next to you is equipped with a sound detector. For every ten decibels increase in sound, the ti on the tir decreases by ten seconds. When the tir hits zero, the bomb will explode. How much of a sacrifice are you willing to make for your life? Your life or death is up to you."
As the words fell, the tir emitted a "tick-tock" sound, like the footsteps of the Grim Reaper, slowly approaching.
The livestream audience, having heard this explanation, started discussing via comnts:
"The broadcaster is a genius! This device, although not as complex as the ’Death Angel,’ excels in simplicity and creepiness!"
"Imagining the sharp fish hook tearing through the stomach wall and esophagus, it’s excruciatingly painful! So frightening!"
"Isn’t the broadcaster a bit inhumane for doing this? After all, it’s torture!"
"Inhumane? Jack Thompson murdered children and flattened people during forced demolitions — was he humane? The broadcaster is delivering justice on behalf of heaven!"
Mu Zixin sent 10 rockets to support the broadcaster in punishing the wicked and eliminating these scum!
anwhile, in the livestream footage, Jack Thompson finally snapped out of his fear. He frantically twisted his corpulent body, attempting to break free from his restraints. The cloth tied around his wrists was originally a slipknot, and with his struggle, his hands finally gained freedom.
A glimr of hope flashed in his eyes as he quickly bent over, trying to untangle the cloth on his feet. However, just as he bent forward, the collar on his neck suddenly emitted a slight "click," and a trendous force pulled him back to his original position.
Instinctively, Jack Thompson reached for the back of his neck, only to discover a chain attached to the collar, with the other end securely anchored to the ground. Without the key to unlock the collar, escape was impossible.
He desperately grabbed the chain, pulling with all his might, but it did not budge. His eyes were filled with fear and helplessness, much like a wild beast trapped in a cage, awaiting the arrival of death.
So viewers in the livestream began feeling sympathy upon seeing this scene:
"Broadcaster, even though he has committed heinous cris, isn’t torturing him like this a bit excessive? Maybe we should hand him over to the police."
"Yeah, broadcaster, scaring him a little is enough; let the law deal with him."
Searching Beauty sent 20 rockets! — Broadcaster, please hand him over to the police; they will handle it.
However, more audience mbers sneered at this:
"Hand him over to the police? If they could catch him, they would have already! Jack Thompson is so rich, he can easily pay soone to take the fall, and he would never face justice!"
"Don’t be naive! I rember the forced demolition clearly — that night, a bulldozer flattened an entire building at dawn, burying many people in their sleep in the rubble! This kind of scum deserves to die!" Your next read is at .Côm
"Exactly! The broadcaster is delivering heavenly justice, and I support them!"
The debate in the livestream grew more intense, yet Jack Thompson, in the footage, could no longer care about any of it. Trembling hands grasped the fishing line dangling from his mouth, he took a deep breath and slowly, cautiously, pulled the line out.
Every inch the fish hook scraped through the stomach brought searing pain. His forehead pulsed with veins as cold sweat dropped like rain, but he clenched his teeth, not daring to utter a sound. He knew that a single scream could doom him.
Seconds ticked away on the tir, the numbers dwindling. A look of resolve flashed in Jack Thompson’s eyes; he knew this was his only chance.
"Hold on a bit longer… just a bit longer…" he silently chanted, his hands trembling, continuing to pull the line.
The livestream audience held their breath, intently watching the scene, as if they were part of this deadly ga.
Will Jack Thompson manage to escape? Or will he et his end in despair? The answer is about to be revealed…
In the Los Angeles City Bureau’s criminal investigation office, the atmosphere was suffocating. Chief Jas Smith, after experiencing previous anger and grief, gradually cald down. He slowly lifted his head again, his gaze fixed on the continuous live broadcast footage, revealing complex emotions in his eyes, conveying both hatred for the criminal and resignation to the current situation.
At this mont, a serious-looking female officer walked steadily up behind Jas Smith. Clearing her throat, she began her report, "Chief, the SWAT team has arrived on the scene as instructed. Unfortunately, the group has already fled. However, we found clear traces of activity on a water tower about thirteen hundred ters away from the abandoned building. It seems they stayed there for a while."
The female officer paused briefly, a trace of hesitation flickering across her face, then continued, "Moreover, Captain Liu’s injuries are very serious and they’ve been rushed to the hospital for ergency treatnt. As for Captain Li…"
Upon ntioning Li Kai, Jas Smith’s eyes instantly betrayed an unconcealed sadness, his gaze turning sowhat vacant as if lost in mories. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and heavy, "Notify his parents tomorrow. Let them enjoy one more peaceful night; I… I can’t bear to break their peace now."
"Yes!" The female officer respectfully accepted the order, gently turned around, and left the office with heavy strides, her silhouette also revealing a hint of sorrow for Li Kai’s sacrifice.
And Jas Smith remained seated, unblinkingly focused on the livestream footage, seemingly searching for clues that could change the situation.
In the footage, Jack Thompson, realizing escape was impossible, displayed a look of desperation on his face. He slowly sat back down on the chair, eyes showing a bit of unwillingness. Then he extended his right hand, slowly pulling a fishing line from his mouth. In the mont of pulling the line, his eyes flashed with ferocity, as if making a final struggle.
"Ah!!!" Jack Thompson barely pulled the line when a sharp, piercing pain like an electric current surged from his abdon through his entire body. The overwhelming pain made him scream involuntarily.
But as soon as the scream escaped, it was as if he rembered sothing crucial; his face turned deathly pale. He hurriedly clamped his hand over his mouth, eyes brimming with fear and regret.
However, it was a step too late. The scream he had let out had already exceeded the permitted ten decibels. The tir, which had been ticking rhythmically, suddenly sped up, emitting urgent sounds. The original forty seconds displayed quickly decreased to thirty seconds!
```
Reviews
All reviews (0)