Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 103: First Torture

Chapter 103: First Torture

The air was thick with the musty scent of earth as Christina and Shennong plummeted into the tunnel beneath her dorm room. Her heart raced, expecting a pitch-black abyss, but as they landed in a rickety cart that jolted forward at breakneck speed, she gasped. Torches lined the tunnel walls, their flames flickering steadily, casting an eerie glow.

"W-what are these?" Christina stammered, gripping the cart’s edge as it rattled along. "I thought it’d be dark down here!"

Shennong, perched beside her with an infuriatingly calm grin, glanced at the torches. "Special torches. My design. No fuel needed, just a little trick of mine."

Christina’s eyes widened. "A trick? What kind of skill even is that?"

He chuckled, his voice low and teasing. "My skill. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. I will explain things later when we are comfortable."

She huffed, crossing her arms as the cart sped on. Where did Mom even find this guy? she wondered, stealing a glance at Shennong. His handsome face and sly smile gave nothing away, but there was something unsettlingly competent about him—like he’d seen things she couldn’t even imagine.

After what felt like an eternity, the cart screeched to a halt. They stepped into a cavernous room that, despite its underground dampness, felt strangely open, almost like a grand hall. No windows, yet the space was lit by more of those uncanny torches. In the center, two men sat slumped in chairs, unconscious, wearing nothing but tattered underwear. Christina’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly averted her eyes.

"You okay, Christina?" Shennong’s voice cut through her embarrassment.

She snapped her gaze back, forcing a nod. "Y-yeah, I’m fine! Just... not used to seeing people like this."

He smirked, leaning against the damp stone wall. "If you want to be a warrior, you’d better get used to worse. Blood, guts, the whole deal."

"I know, you don’t have to tell me" Christina muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She squared her shoulders, trying to look tougher than she felt.

They approached the two men—captured assassins, Shennong had called them. Their heads lolled, oblivious to the world. Christina frowned. "They’re out cold. How are we supposed to question them?"

Shennong didn’t answer. Instead, he raised a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, a torrent of icy water materialized out of thin air, drenching the assassins. Christina yelped, jumping back as the men jolted awake, gasping and thrashing like they’d been struck by lightning.

"What was that?!" she demanded, her voice echoing in the chamber. "You just—water out of nowhere? What is your skill?! This is not any ordinary skill."

Shennong’s grin widened, but he waved her off. "Focus, Christina. If Yenissa were here, this’d be a lot easier."

"Who’s Yenissa?" Christina asked, her curiosity piqued. She was getting more and more confused each second.

"Forget it," he said sharply, his tone closing the topic. "Let’s get to work."

The assassins, now shivering and wide-eyed, stared at them. Christina hesitated, her stomach churning at the thought of what came next. Shennong, unfazed, flicked his wrist again, and a heavy wooden table appeared in the center of the room, laden with an array of sinister-looking tools—blades, pliers, needles, and things Christina couldn’t even name.

"Go on," Shennong said, nodding toward the table. "Get the information you need. Don’t worry if you kill ’em. No one knows they’re here."

Christina’s heart pounded. "I... I don’t know where to start."

Shennong sighed, muttering, "Naive. If it was me, I would first torture them and then question." He leaned against the wall, watching as she stepped toward the assassins. She cleared her throat, trying to sound authoritative. "Who sent you? Why were you after me?"

The men exchanged a glance but said nothing. Their jaws clenched, and their tongues moved oddly, as if searching for something in their mouths. Shennong snorted from behind her. "Looking for the poison in their fake teeth? Already took care of that. No point and also don’t try to bit your tongue because I have healers."

Christina’s eyes widened. "Poison teeth? Who are these people to kill themselves?"

"Professionals," Shennong said, his tone almost impressed. "Big organization, probably. Doesn’t matter. Ask again. They will talk!"

She turned back to the assassins, her voice firmer. "Who hired you? Talk!"

Silence. Their defiance grated on her nerves. Before she could speak again, a loud thunk echoed through the room. An iron ingot, conjured from nowhere, slammed onto the ground inches from the assassins’ feet, nearly crushing their toes. They screamed, writhing in their restraints.

Christina whipped around, glaring at Shennong. "Did you have to do that? I said I will take care."

He shrugged, unapologetic. "They weren’t talking. You gonna do this or what? If you don’t get the information within next hour, I am going to do it in my own way."

She sighed, her hands trembling as she approached the table. The tools gleamed menacingly under the torchlight. Most were too complex, their purposes a mystery to her untrained eyes. Her gaze landed on a small, claw-like device Shennong had called a "nail remover." Swallowing hard, she picked it up, its cold metal heavy in her hand.

Steeling herself, she grabbed the nearest assassin’s hand. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. Her stomach churned as she positioned the tool over his fingernail. "Last chance," she warned, her voice shaky. "Who sent you?"

He ignored her almost crying despite trying look like he was okay. Gritting her teeth, Christina pressed the tool down and yanked. The nail came free with a sickening rip, and the man howled. Bile rose in her throat, but she forced it down, refusing to show weakness in front of Shennong.

The other assassin trembled, his eyes darting between his comrade and the tools. Still, neither spoke. Christina’s frustration grew. "Why won’t you talk?! Do you want me to remove all your nails?" she snapped.

Shennong stepped forward, his voice low. "They’re trained to die before they spill. But we’ve got time." He picked up a handful of thin, needle-like tools from the table. "These are coated in a poison. Not lethal, but it’ll make their skin crawl like it’s on fire. They’ll beg to scratch, but with their hands tied..." He trailed off, a wicked glint in his eye.

Christina hesitated, but Shennong’s words echoed in her mind: If you want to be a warrior, you’d better get used to worse. She grabbed a needle and jabbed it into the first assassin’s arm. He flinched, his face contorting as the poison took effect. Over the next few hours, the room filled with screams. Fingernails were removed, needles embedded in flesh, and the assassins’ resolve began to crack.

Finally, the first assassin gasped, his voice hoarse. "A Noble... hired us. Don’t know his name. We get orders through intermediaries."

"Who do you work for?" Christina pressed, leaning closer.

"No name," the second assassin muttered, scratching at his restraints in vain. "We’re trained by random people. Missions come with money. That’s it."

Shennong raised an eyebrow. "No organization name? Interesting. And why do you have such loyalty to them?"

The first assassin’s eyes darkened. "They’re like ghosts. Appear out of nowhere. Cross them, and your family’s dead before you blink. They will kill all of you. We are just pawns. We all are."

"Ghosts, huh?" Shennong said, a grin spreading across his face. "I’d love to meet some ghosts."

Christina stepped back, her mind racing. An organization that operates like phantoms? She glanced at Shennong, who seemed unfazed, almost amused. "What now?" she asked.

"We got what we needed," he said, wiping his hands on his cloak. "The Noble’s our lead. These two... they’re done."

The assassins slumped in their chairs, broken and exhausted. Christina’s hands still trembled, the nail remover clutched tightly in her fist. She felt sick, but a strange sense of resolve settled over her. She’d done it. She’d faced the ugliness of this world and hadn’t backed down.

Shennong clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Not bad, girl. You’ve got potential."

She managed a weak smile. "I... I didn’t think I could do that."

"You did what you had to," he said. "That’s what warriors do. If you want to be a real knight...you will see more brutal things than this."

As they turned to leave, the torches flickered, casting long shadows across the room. Christina glanced back at the assassins, their tormented forms barely visible in the dim light. She didn’t know what came next, but one thing was certain: this journey with Shennong was only getting stranger.

"Ready to hunt a noble?" Shennong asked, his voice light but his eyes sharp.

Christina took a deep breath, nodding. "Yeah. Let’s do it. I need to find who is responsible before they harm Princess Maria."

The cart awaited them at the tunnel’s edge, ready to carry them back into the dorm room. As they climbed in, Christina couldn’t shake the feeling that she was stepping into something far bigger—and far more dangerous—than she’d ever imagined.

"I hope this wouldn’t get me killed," She thought, but looking at Shennong’s confident face, she knew getting killed was the least of her worries.