The Southern Office's prison was surprisingly a lot looser.
Pei Ye lean against the wall in this equally dimly lit cell, the coarse and pitted iron bars in front of him had patches that were either rust or old blood. He shifted his bottom, the worn straw mat bringing a long-lost gentleness to his backside.
He had indeed been through a lot.
Although it was still treatment befitting a serious offender, this was not the method used by Immortal Platform to seal demons or monsters.
First, it was no longer bitterly cold; the cell was closer to the ground and much warmer. Second, there were none of those strange and magic techniques—the Strange Fire ingested into the body, the patterns drawn on the body were all gone. Third... there were actually people here.