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First, the metal drum was filled to the brim with water. When the newcomers were shoved inside, the water level remained flush with the rim as their bodies entered.

This meant that if they wanted to breathe, they had no choice but to contort themselves painfully, tilting their heads back just to stick their noses out.

Through the gap between the two steel bars across the lid, they struggled to inhale the outside air.

If they didn't maintain that posture, each breath would draw in water instead of air. And once you choked, it only made everything worse.

Secondly, the height of the metal drum was 1.5 meters—neither too high nor too low, but just the right level of cruel.

Whether it was Long Zhan, who stood at 1.93 meters, or the shortest among the newcomers, Brian, who was 1.77 meters tall, they all faced the same problem.

They couldn't stand up straight, and if they squatted, their heads would be submerged—leaving no way to breathe.

They could only maintain a half-crouch with bent knees or kneel with their butt sticking out.

Whichever position they chose, the prolonged lack of oxygen during this physical strain led their bodies to produce an excess of lactic acid.

Lactic acid caused their muscles to swell and ache, and the longer the ordeal continued, the more lactic acid accumulated, intensifying the pain.

Given that every SERE torture session was measured in hours, just imagining it was enough to make someone "thrilled to death."

On top of that, while holding that torturous pose, they still had to crane their necks and stick out their noses just to suck in a breath of life-saving air.

Not to mention this was already the fourth day of torment—every newcomer had already been pushed to their breaking point.

Their physical condition was now worse than that of an average person.

Under these circumstances, the pain was already unbearable. Adding the doubled pressure of the water-drum confinement turned it into a clear-cut case of "super stacking."

This wasn't just torture anymore—it was a living hell, worse than death.

Unsurprisingly, the newcomers had been locked inside for less than an hour when the prison was filled with the groans of grown men in agony, interspersed with the gurgle of splashing water.

The sounds echoed through the holding area in a chaotic chorus.

Anyone who didn't know what was going on might've thought they were filming an "adult movie" in there.

Meanwhile, as Clay, Brian, and the other eight newcomers did everything they could to hook themselves onto the steel-bar lid of the drum, using their arms as makeshift supports to swap the burden between limbs just to survive inside—

Long Zhan had already found the opportunity he needed and had begun making secret preparations.

The water dungeon was indeed more agonizing than before. Perhaps because they trusted in its torturous efficiency, the security had actually been downgraded a level.

Unlike the previous cells, it no longer had an indestructible iron door installed.

Which meant that even if Long Zhan somehow "magically" crafted a key, he couldn't break through the previous iron door and would have to wait until interrogation began to act.

This had led to two previous attempts at escape both ending in failure.

But this water dungeon had no door at all. At the left side, a staircase led straight up to the interrogation room, and beyond that was the exit to the basement.

In other words…

As long as Long Zhan could get out of the water dungeon, he could head directly to the final checkpoint—the basement exit.

Over the past few days, he had secretly gathered all kinds of information and intelligence, and had already calculated Green Team's shift schedules.

All he needed was the right moment, and Long Zhan could make his escape from here.

As for how to break open the steel-bar lid of the drum—made from thick bars as wide as fingers—and how to avoid the surveillance camera overhead?

Long Zhan had long since prepared for everything. None of it could stop him anymore.

Midnight struck.

**"Bang\~"**

A strange sound echoed from within the water dungeon.

The volume wasn't very loud, mostly drowned out by the groans of pain and the splashing water.

What followed was the creak of the steel-bar lid opening, then the sound of someone climbing out of the water with a splash.

Charlie, who was stationed on night duty in the interrogation room above, heard the faint unusual noise from below. He stood up and walked down the stairs toward the holding area.

Charlie was 1.91 meters tall and weighed 240 pounds—the only one in Green Team whose build could rival Long Zhan's.

The tall instructor had assigned Charlie to night duty specifically to counter Long Zhan and avoid a situation where someone else got taken out instantly.

As long as Charlie could withstand the first strike, he could immediately press the alarm. The guards stationed at the basement exit would rush in for backup at once.

Armed with the emergency transmitter and confident in his close-combat abilities, Charlie hadn't bothered to call the guards upon hearing the anomaly in the water dungeon.

He didn't want to be mocked by his peers for being a coward in a big body.

So, he chose to check it out alone.

**Three minutes later!**

The big guy walked out of the water dungeon and sat back down in the interrogation room chair.

As if nothing had happened at all.

Time passed.

Soon, it was 6 a.m.

"Charlie, the weather outside is great today! Hurry up and go get some rest."

The one coming to relieve him was Cooper, a Green Team trainer. Even though it was still pre-dawn gray outside, he smiled cheerfully and told an obvious lie.

"Thanks!"

Charlie gave Cooper a hug, pulled his cap down low, and walked out of the interrogation room.

He ascended the stairs and exited into the warehouse connected to the training center. The two gate guards only glanced at him briefly—

Noting his black trainer uniform and the signature trainer balaclava.

They suspected nothing and let him leave.

**8 a.m.**

A dozen trainers strolled casually into the warehouse, chatting and laughing, gathering in small groups near the basement exit.

Veterans of Green Team indeed—their approach to work was incredibly laid-back.

Less than ten minutes later—

The tall instructor, having finished breakfast, arrived with two assistant instructors. At the entrance, he called four trainers to join him as he descended into the basement to begin a new round of daily interrogations.

On his way, he had already decided:

Today, Long Zhan would be given special attention.

At the very least, he had to be tortured to the point of being unable to crawl.

Otherwise, something just didn't feel right—and he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly tonight.

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