The driver's former colleague put his body in a box, pressed it tightly, and poured water on his face until he was almost suffocating. And the way of the coachman: repeatedly burning the body with a red-hot iron, or piercing the body with a sharp wooden thorn. You can also have the driver kneel down and place a plank on his ankle, with a policeman standing at each end of the plank, which will almost dislocate the ankle.

During the extremely brutal torture that lasted for more than three hours, if someone untied the driver's belt, opened his clothes, and took off his shorts, he would find that from the lower abdomen, which was half-covered by the waist, to the two knees, whether it was the lower abdomen, the crotch, and the Pengbe, it was as if the stone black and red paint were mixed together and smeared, covering an indescribable and terrible color.

In addition, you can see a lot of internal bleeding marks, and the skin of the thighs is swollen as if it is about to swell and crack, which is twice as thick as the average person's thigh.

Even more tragic was the fracture of the right index finger, which was a complete fracture, and the index finger was bent in the opposite direction and pressed against the back of the hand. The index finger is folded upside down.

The former colleague said to the driver, "It's been three hours now, do you think you can hold on?"

The coachman was now unconscious, and his lips were shaking unconsciously with pain. It was as if he had plucked up a surge of courage from his heart, and shouted, "Kill me, kill me." I won't say that!"

At this time, the former colleague has lost the harmony he had at the beginning, or the three-hour torture not only has worn down the will of the coachman, but the former colleague has not much reason left

"Stop moving, you won't be able to escape. We've been seeing each other for so long, look, you don't seem to have given you any water until now. Drink your saliva first, and you'll tell me when you're done, you know." The former colleague smiled and put a rag on the side to cover the driver's face, and then poured cold water on the rag. The rag was wet with cold water and pressed against the driver's face, and the driver exhaled vigorously, trying to blow the cloth away so that he could catch his breath.

However, all this is in vain, knowing that a person with his back to the sky, no matter how strong he is, will not want to blow away a wet cloth covering his face. Former colleagues have tried this method many times and have never seen anyone be able to blow a damp cloth away.

The ex-colleague added another piece of cloth and continued to pour water. The torturer pressed the driver's head hard and did not allow the driver's head to move. The other man struggled to hold the driver's legs.

Seeing the wet cloth rising and falling at the driver's mouth and nose, the former colleague ordered the torturer to hold it down, and then added another piece of cloth and continued to water it.

With a "squeak" sound, the water was sucked into the mouth, and the stomach swelled little by little. Former colleagues were intrigued by this and kept watering.

"I'm almost there, and if he dies, he won't be able to ask anything." The torturer said to his former colleague.

It was almost there, and the coachman's belly was already swollen to the point of bursting. The wet cloth was removed, and the coachman gasped in pain, his facial features were distorted, and his two bloodshot eyes protruded from their sockets, as if they were about to burst.

The torturer, who was already proficient in this technique, brought a long flat pole from the side and pressed it horizontally against the coachman's swollen belly, and the former colleague and the torturer laughed and pressed down like a seesaw. Columns of water squirted out of the driver's mouth, and it was not until finally that the former colleagues and torturers stopped.

"How? To say or not to say? Still don't tell the truth?" The former colleague punched the driver several times in the side of the face, causing the driver's already distorted facial features to instantly turn red with blood spurting from his nostrils and mouth.

The driver glared at his former colleague with those bulging eyes, and struggled to speak, but it was not what the former colleague wanted to hear.

The former colleague wanted to continue torturing the coachman, but at this time, someone brought food, and the ex-colleague also happened to need to replenish his strength, so he temporarily left the coachman who was tied to the torture device and went to taste the delicious food.

At this moment, a Japanese second lieutenant with a katana on his back walked into the execution chamber, his face flushed, obviously drunk, and he shouted, "Did you ask any valuable information?"

The former colleague hurriedly threw away the food in his hand and ran to him, but said that he had not asked yet.

"Bastard!" The Japanese second lieutenant punched his former colleague hard in the chest, "Since I can't ask anything

Well, let's kill them all!"

After a few more reprimands, he turned and left. The former colleague was angry in his heart, thinking that it was these guys who refused to cooperate that caused him to be beaten.

At that time, I couldn't stand it at all, how did the coachman persevere. This made the former colleague extremely angry, and he had the intention of killing the second lieutenant of the Japanese army, but if he was killed with a bayonet, it would be too cheap for him. How do you kill them?

A former colleague stumbled upon a latrine in the corner and immediately had an idea.

The latrine was dug in a deep pit in the ground, and two thick wooden planks were placed on top of it, and the filth was piled up in the pit, and when it was almost full, it was taken out and dried to be used as fertilizer for the next year.

"If you don't want to tell the truth, let's eat all the dirt in the pit."

The former colleague told the torturer and a few others to come and help. Several former colleagues freed the coachman from the torture device, and the coachman no longer even had the strength to resist, so the four of them carried the coachman to the thatched house very easily.

Then, with a shovel, the torturer used a shovel to break the wood from the pit and, at the shouts of his former colleagues, pressed the coachman, who had a premonition that he was going to be unfavorable to him, head down and feet up, into the pit.

The coachman watched as he slowly approached his own filth, and he would soak himself in it. The last line of defense in the driver's mind was broken, and he said to his former colleague, "Say! Say! Say! I say both. Pull me up! Pull me up!"

The driver's former colleague burst out laughing and said, "Come! Hurry up and pull him up."

The driver was pulled up, and the former colleague did not immediately ask the driver what he knew, but first called the doctor over and gave the driver a simple treatment.

After the doctor gave the driver a brief treatment, the driver's former colleague asked, "This is you, someone else's words." Where is the doctor coming first!

You see I'm ready, come on, talk about everything one by one. Where is your upline? Where's your downline?"

The driver looked at the elated appearance of his former colleague, and all kinds of feelings welled up in his heart. I was so painful before, why did I retreat at the last step!

This retreat, I can no longer muster the courage I had before. If you enter the torture room again, it may not take you ten minutes, and you will be talking about it all like bamboo tubes and beans.