Three more killers were almost simultaneously pierced through and fell to the ground. Paul Rogers fought with heroic bravery, drawing his gun like lightning, with great force and momentum, intimidating the group of assassins. His footwork was measured and precise, and his attacks were methodical.

Henry Brooks was like a top-tier sniper hiding in the darkness, calmly firing off the remaining four short arrows before quickly retreating, changing to a new ambush spot, and swiftly replacing the arrow magazine. While observing the battle, he saw that nearly half of the attackers had already been taken out, and the remaining half were no match for Paul Rogers.

Strangely, despite their heavy casualties, none of these people tried to run. Clearly, they had received a death order.

An endless fury surged in his heart. These bastards really thought he was an easy target. This was intolerable! He raised his crossbow again and took aim.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Arrow after arrow shot out like bullets from a chamber, carrying Henry Brooks's boundless killing intent.

One assassin after another fell wounded, greatly reducing the pressure on Paul Rogers, and the Luo family's marksmanship became even more fluid and effective.

Chapter 12: Interrogation

In the backyard.

Henry Brooks and Paul Rogers, one in the open and one in the shadows, took down about twenty people in an instant. The remaining ten or so, realizing things were going badly, suddenly scattered in all directions after someone shouted. Henry Brooks gave chase, his crossbow bolts like shooting stars, killing several, while Paul Rogers caught up to a few and stabbed them to death.

The rest managed to escape the yard, only to be met by dozens of guards. Each one was a battle-hardened veteran who had followed Qin Qiong across the land. They coordinated closely and struck ruthlessly, and in no time, all the killers were cut down—none escaped.

"Send a squad over here," Paul Rogers called out as he chased after them, then turned and walked back toward the backyard.

Edward Grant led about ten men into the backyard, shocked by the corpses strewn everywhere, but didn't ask any questions.

Henry Brooks hadn't chased outside earlier; instead, he stayed behind to collect and hide the arrows, and used a sword to stab the wounds, creating the illusion that the killers had been slain by sword. The crossbow must never be exposed. Seeing Paul Rogers return with men, he ordered, "Carry the bodies out, interrogate the survivors immediately, and keep the weapons for your own use."

"Yes, sir!"

Edward Grant bowed and accepted the order. They were all veterans and knew what to do. In no time, everyone was taken away.

"Are you alright?" Henry Brooks looked at Paul Rogers.

"I'm fine, thank you for your concern, uncle. Was that a crossbow you used just now?" Paul Rogers asked curiously.

"Yes, do you like it?"

"Heh heh!" Paul Rogers smiled a bit sheepishly.

"If you like it, it's yours—but it must not be exposed."

"Of course! According to Tang law, possessing a crossbow is a serious crime."

Henry Brooks laughed. This kid fought fiercely; those assassins just now were even stronger than the ones they encountered yesterday, yet he wasn't afraid to take on thirty at once. He wasn't stupid either—he could be of great use. So he fetched the crossbow and handed it over.

"Thank you, uncle!" Paul Rogers was overjoyed, holding the crossbow and unable to put it down.

Henry Brooks could tell he wasn't very familiar with it—after all, it was a modern weapon, different from the usual Tang crossbows. After demonstrating its use, he reminded him, "This is a crossbow gun. It can fire ten times in a row before you need to change the magazine. It has a range of twenty meters. Remember, if it's exposed, the consequences will be endless."

"I understand," Paul Rogers said solemnly.

"Find a place to hide it. If anyone comes again, show no mercy. I'm going to check on the prisoners." With that, Henry Brooks gave a final reminder, grabbed his sword, and hurried off.

Soon, Henry Brooks arrived at a side hall in the front yard, where the guards were interrogating the prisoners. Edward Grant saw Henry Brooks coming and quickly stepped forward to greet him, saying, "Young master, they're deathsworn. It won't be easy to get them to talk."

Henry Brooks stepped forward and saw a guard violently beating one of the survivors. The rest were tightly bound, but all wore indifferent expressions, their eyes lifeless, as if awaiting death. The one being beaten didn't scream, dodge, or beg for mercy—he just gritted his teeth and endured, completely unconcerned.

Someone determined to die would never open their mouth.

Henry Brooks called out, "Stop. Let me teach you an interrogation technique."

Everyone stopped, looking at Henry Brooks in surprise. Wasn't interrogation just a matter of beating someone until they talked? What technique was needed?

"Interrogation is a skill. Beating people is the crudest, most unskilled method. It works on ordinary people, but not on deathsworn. Someone go get some paper and a bucket of water," Henry Brooks explained.

Someone immediately accepted the order and hurried off.

Henry Brooks continued, "Bring a long bench and tie the man to it."

Soon, someone brought a long rope and tied a prisoner to the bench, head up, hands and feet secured.

Henry Brooks stepped forward and said coldly, "I know you're tough and would rather die than yield. Let's play a game. In a moment, we'll wet some paper and stick it to your face. It'll make it hard to breathe. The more paper, the harder it gets, until you suffocate. Let's see how many sheets you can take, and how long you last. We've got plenty of time to play."

"Go ahead, I'm not afraid," the man taunted.

The others were a bit puzzled—could sticking paper really make a deathsworn talk? No way.

They had no idea that this method was the ultimate test of a person's willpower and endurance. Death itself wasn't scary—a quick blade and it was over in a blink. But who could stand being slowly suffocated? This drawn-out agony was a truly inhuman torture. The lack of oxygen would cause insufficient blood flow to the brain and mental collapse. Even specially trained soldiers couldn't withstand it.