"Stop! Hand over all your money."
Suddenly, four or five young n erged from the nearby grasslands. Their faces were covered with black cloth, and each brandished a gleaming dagger.
Nia Mitchell jumped, startled. She clenched her fists, her eyes wide with fear as she looked at them.
"We don’t have any money," Father Mitchell said. He hadn’t anticipated sothing like this. A robbery?
"No money? How can you have no money? We’ve been following you for a long ti! Give us the money you’ve got stashed," one of them demanded, accurately pinpointing where Father Mitchell kept his cash.
How could he give it to them? This money was for Aldy Mitchell’s treatnt.
"Dad, just give it to them," Nia urged.
She knew it was a lot of money, but right now, there didn’t seem to be a better solution. Maxwell Peary would handle Aldy’s dical expenses. After all, they were family; there was no such thing as ’your money’ or ’his money.’ To Maxwell, this amount was negligible.
"No! This is for Aldy’s treatnt!" Father Mitchell refused outright. This was his hard-earned money, his blood, sweat, and tears. How could he just hand it over to these people?
"Old man, you’d better cooperate. Otherwise, this dagger in my hand doesn’t have eyes," one of the n threatened, waggling the dagger he held.
"Yeah, yeah, hurry up and hand it over!" another chid in.
"Hand it over, hand it over! We’re just after your money; we’re not looking to kill anyone."
"Hurry up, or this white blade goes in and a red one cos out!"
Father Mitchell shuddered as the group closed in on him. He hesitated for a mont, then finally pulled out the money. His daughter was behind him. He couldn’t let Nia be put in danger.
"That’s more like it!" The man closest to Father Mitchell imdiately snatched the money, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"HAHA! This money will last us a good while!" The man was smug after taking the money. Suddenly, however, his gaze landed maliciously on Nia, who stood behind her father.
"Hey, the chick is quite a looker," he remarked casually. Instantly, all eyes in the group shifted to Nia.
Father Mitchell’s heart sank. Sothing was wrong. These guys weren’t just after money.
"Boss has good taste. She really is sothing," another thug imdiately chid in, and the others began openly sizing her up. Their shaless leering infuriated Nia.
"You’ve got your money, haven’t you? Get lost, quickly! Otherwise, this won’t end well for anyone," Nia retorted, standing her ground despite her slightly trembling hands.
"No benefits?" one of them sneered.
"HAHA! There are plenty of benefits to be had!"
Suddenly, a man lunged forward and fiercely grabbed Nia’s wrist.
"AH!" Nia cried out, startled, and imdiately began to struggle.
"What are you doing?! Let go of her!" Father Mitchell shouted, rushing to help. He tried to pull the man’s hand away, but two other young n restrained him.
The leader instantly pressed his dagger against Nia’s neck. "Don’t move."
At once, the struggling from both Father Mitchell and Nia ceased.
Seeing Father Mitchell stop struggling, his face etched with worry, the leader flashed a malicious grin. "Beat him up! Let’s see if he’s still disobedient then."
At his command, the other three n imdiately started punching and kicking Father Mitchell.
"Stop it! Dad! Dad! Let go!" Nia scread, beginning to struggle violently again, completely disregarding the dagger at her throat. Watching her father get kicked to the ground, tears stread down her face instantly.
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