Using the beating as a method of torture only works in the short term. As the leader of Hammerhead's Enforcers, Schultz had to learn that early on, if he wanted to get results. Of course, when it came to everyday civilians, it was different. Usually, just the threat of a beating was enough, though they often gave a few punches to let them know what to expect if they ever decided not to cooperate. But to the more experienced kind, beating isn't that big of an intimidation. Sure, it hurts and if one gets creative they can cause some serious damage but it's too messy and takes a lot of work. Plus, it leaves severe marks that are hard to hide though that's only a problem if the subject is intended to be left alive. If it's just a one-time information gathering, then it's okay to go all out but if someone's making a long-term investment, it's better to be a bit more subtle about it.
Through the years, they've found that threatening loved ones or hurting already wounded places is more effective. The best method they'd discovered, however, was waterboarding. Those bigshots at the CIA must know a thing or two about this kind of stuff. Apart from bloodshot eyes, it barely leaves any trails and he had never met anyone who was able to take it for more than a few hours before breaking. So when their job demanded it, or when none of them had some overwhelming frustration to vent out (the exception was mostly O'Hirn), they used that method and as far as he knew, most of the other similar groups too. It's the most effective.
That is why he was really baffled about why he'd spent the last couple of days being beaten to a pulp. When he arrived back at the meeting point, already worn out, he was expecting some sort of punishment after a few rebukes. But their boss, Sable (according to Spider-man), just looked at him with eyes one might use when they feel a deep and cold fury for a cockroach, and then simply kicked him in the head. He saw it coming (sort of), but he was so tired that his reaction was way too slow to do anything. He passed out and the next thing he knew was that he was locked in a dark and cold basement, fully naked... except for a few bandages on his left arm, his shoulder now put back in place. That last part was really confusing but he decided not to fuss and just be grateful about it.
He'd considered his punishment rather light until five hooded hooligans barged in, led by a blond-dyed Latino, around his mid-twenties who might have been handsome a couple of nose breaks ago. He looked at Schultz with disdain then ordered his goons to start beating and kicking him. He tried to defend himself but he was still a little dozy and immensely outnumbered. They weren't methodical about it at all, just hitting and kicking wherever they could, like some mindless beasts. But their intelligence didn't really matter as long as they could cause damage and hurt him. And they did. A lot. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before one of them kicked his wounded shoulder and he passed out, though it sure as hell felt like it was more. But unfortunately it wasn't over because their leader splashed him with ice-cold water and he suddenly woke up, shimmering and hurting everywhere. After that, they continued for god knows how long before they got tired, spit on him, and then simply left.
The next thing he remembered was that Sable came in. He tried to crawl away but there was barely any strength left in him. She put a bag down next to him, opened it and took out... a first aid kit. She cleaned his bruises with cotton wool and medical alcohol and bandaged his wounds. Then, she took out an injection that contained some kind of transparent liquid and Schultz instinctively tried to get away from her. But she grabbed his upper body, disturbingly gently, and placed it on her lap. She placed the needle to his left shoulder and tightened her grip on him when he started to struggle but it still wasn't hard enough to hurt him. She jammed it in and pushed the liquid into him and it felt... amazing.
He wasn't sure if it was morphine or some kind of other super-painkiller but he literally felt the pain melt away. He shuddered and let out a soft whimper. He hated that and he hated how grateful he was for her. She didn't stop there, however. She cleaned his face, reached into the bag again and took out a bottle of water. She lifted his head, his upper-body still supported by her lap, and helped him drink it. Then, she took out something that looked like it was mixed into liquid form and had him drink that too. It tasted vaguely like chicken. It must have been some extra nourishing thing. She stayed with him for a while, gently caressing his forehead. When he was getting tired, she softly put down his head from her lap and left. Schultz felt the urge to call out for her to stay and he'd honestly never ever hated himself as much as he did in that moment.
