Everything is perfect, only he is ugly.

He had the urge to hide himself.

Naturally, Rong Wan also felt the restraint on the protagonist. He stretched out a hand and gently pressed it on the protagonist's shoulder. Fortunately, after the initial contact, the protagonist seemed to be a little more relaxed towards him than others, so his body was just a little bit more relaxed. Stiff, his eyes were full of vigilance, but there was no other overreaction.

After passing the temperature in the palm of his hand, Rong Wan squatted down, his face was calm, and he looked at the remaining eye of the protagonist.

"Want to talk? Do you want to take off the muzzle?" Rong Wan asked.

After he asked this sentence, a hint of shock and disbelief flashed in the protagonist's bottomless eyes—

In the entire empire, slaves have no right to have self-consciousness. Masters can torture slaves in any way, but slaves cannot escape or avoid them, otherwise they will only end up worse.

Of course there are slaves who hate all these unfair systems. Therefore, very few masters will release the shackles of their slaves, which is likely to cause the slaves to escape or counterattack.

Not to mention, monsters like Jin Zhao, who were once used as weapons of imperial warfare.

Even if he was deprived of his mental power, the pleasure of killing people remained in his memory, and he was more dangerous than ordinary slaves.

Like a dangerous weapon that could explode at any time. And now the admiral said he was going to unbolt his weapon?

Jin Zhao was tense all over, staring suspiciously and vigilantly at the young general in front of him, not sure what the other party was trying to do.

But his blood that had been silent for a long time really boiled for a moment because of Rong Wan's proposal. If these things can disappear, his mental power may be able to accumulate a little bit——

But can those muzzles and flails used to tie animals really be removed from him?

He was still hesitating, but in the next second, the admiral's hand approached, with a strong mental force and a force that could not be protested, he pressed the back of his head with one hand and pulled his head closer. The strength is very strong, which is irresistible, but the palm is warm, so it did not cause any harm to him.

Even that action was gentle for a monster like him, and the moment it came over, it made him shudder.

With the other hand of the admiral, he inserted the key of the flail, only to hear two "clicks", and the admiral broke the flail.

Then came the flails, also opened.

Jin Zhao watched helplessly as the admiral held the two heavy shackles in his palms, and without playing too much, he threw them into the corner without hesitation.

Jin Zhao was suffocating his breath.

become free?

Perhaps it was because he had been in pain for too long, and had been trapped for too long, Jin Zhao rolled his stiff eyes and looked at the sickly pale white on his wrist that had been strangled because he had not seen the sun for many years. Realize that everything that limited his freedom of movement was lifted by this man? - Is he free?

No, he wasn't completely free, but at least he looked a little like a normal thing now.

His heart suddenly beat wildly, all the blood rushed to the top of the scalp, raised his eyes and stared at the general quickly.

Even if the protagonist doesn't say a word, Rong Wan can see from his detailed facial changes that he is really happy now. The joy is very shallow, just because his hands and feet can move freely, and maybe next, when he is thirsty, he can put some water on his lips.

Even if he knew, he was still a slave, and now he was just transferred from a small cage where he could not stretch his limbs to a bigger cage——

But the deadness of the protagonist still faded a little.

"You can move freely in this room, but it's best not to leave the door of this room." Rong Wan said lightly.

After all, it is for the sake of the protagonist. The protagonist's spiritual power source has been completely deprived, and his body is weakened by years of torture. If he leaves this room at will, he is afraid that some guards or servants in the mansion will insult him. Of course, the protagonist can go out with him while he is there.

The protagonist took his words as an order, lowered his head slightly in resistance, and the gloomy eyes returned.

Rong Wan stood up and looked at the protagonist for a while, and saw that his body was mottled with blood, bruised and blood scabs, it was really unbearable, and his hair was also bunched up, so he had to wash it well.

So he went out and ordered two servants to bring hot water in a cold tone, and ordered not to be too hot. The two servants didn't dare to object, and they came in with a huge bucket after a while.

The protagonist looked at the steaming wooden barrel, a little startled.

There is a healing potion in the wooden barrel, and only let the servants pour half of it into it, so that the effect of the medicine is milder and not too irritating. But he frowned and looked at the scars on the protagonist—

Some are very tragic and ugly scars from artillery fire when they are used as mindless war machines on the battlefield.

Some people maliciously cut the skin with a knife, sprinkled with salt, and the fleshy flesh that has not been healed has been turned out, and there is a little pus on the outside. If it breaks, it will definitely be extremely painful.

There are also the bruised whip wound, the lump that was kicked out by the force of the foot, and the white bones exposed under the tattered flesh at the joints such as the knee.

Rong Wan is the only person who has seen all the tragic fate of the protagonist. His eyes fell on these wounds, and he could easily know what kind of bruises the protagonist suffered, leaving such wounds. The suffering equivalent to those seven million words became real, and blood dripped in front of him.

Rong Wan didn't dare to look any further, his nose was sore, he turned his head and walked over to the window, his voice cold as he tried his best: "You have to clean yourself up, should I ask someone to help you, or do you do it yourself?"

After being quiet, he turned his head and saw that the protagonist was not moving, so he beckoned and planned to call someone to help. After all, in such a tragic situation as the protagonist, you can't even walk very well. How can you immerse yourself in the bathtub?