Death and pain would never fear people like Black Fox, but they were afraid of one thing—losing consciousness.

The light above his head shone upon him, showing how wet his forehead was due to sweat.

The cold needle pricked into his skin. The pain was that of an ant's bite to him.

But veins were protruding on the back of his hands as they were balled into fists. He was fighting back in reflex.

Ethan watched him coldly. "Either you spill it now or you'll do it without dignity later. Who have you