"Heh." A chuckle escaped Baron Lawrence’s lips, enigmatic and unclear.
The man’s heart inexplicably froze, and the boisterous laughter on his face ca to an abrupt stop as he stared at him nervously.
Baron Lawrence’s eagle eyes were cold and ruthless, he glanced at the man, then without looking at anyone beside him gave a command, "Break one of his fingers!"
"..."
What does that an?
Before the man could react, the bodyguards on either side had already grabbed his hand, one of them pressed his left pinky finger onto the coffee table, and without blinking, suddenly grabbed an ashtray from beside and smashed it down!
"Ah!" a miserable scream escaped him.
The executioner bodyguard touched his fractured finger expressionlessly and calmly reported to the man on the sofa, "Lord, 012 has completed the task!"
The man’s forehead pulsed in pain, covered in beads of sweat, while the man sitting on the sofa looked at him arrogantly, sitting cross-legged, his thin lips moved again, "Who is your employer?"
The man was in so much pain he almost passed out, but he was pinned down and couldn’t move. Bearing the pain and fear, he forced a sneer, "Heh, Lord, you have the ability to catch , you might as well shoot dead! I won’t talk!"
"Continue!"
"Yes, Lord."
The bodyguard held down the man’s left ring finger, repeating the sa process.
The man scread again in pain, sweat pouring more rapidly from his forehead.
"Who is your employer?"
"..."
This ti, he didn’t even have the strength to speak. His throat felt like it was on fire, and he stared at the man on the sofa with open eyes.
Panic, fear, and anger.
Baron Lawrence raised his hand a bit, demonstrating through actions.
Not answering would yield the sa result!
The man had already lost three fingers in a row, the pain pierces the heart. It’s a tornt beyond words. Sweat was pouring off him, his temple muscles pulsing, throbbing. He glared at the man on the sofa with anger feigned as calm and laughed grimly, "If you have the capability, Lord, then give a quick death! You don’t have to torture like this, I won’t talk!"
"Do you know how many fingers a human has?" Baron Lawrence, at ease, with a handso noble face, looked at him calmly, "Ten fingers."
"When the fingers are gone there are still palms, when the palms are used up there are still feet..."
"..." Unconsciously, the man imagined the scenes he described. Although his tone was calm, for so reason, it gave an extrely ruthless impression!
Baron Lawrence’s thin lips pressed into a line, he continued, "And when the hands and feet are done, there are ribs! I want to see how stubborn your mouth can be!"
In this world, there is no mouth that cannot be pried open, unless that person is dead!
If he dared to do it, he should’ve expected this result.
"Who is your employer?"
The sa question asked once again, the man’s legs trembled, almost collapsing under the pressure.
Inside him, fear clashed with the desire to uphold his rcenary dignity.
"..."
Baron Lawrence gave him no chance, his thin lips moved, "Follow the steps I ntioned, continue!"
From ti to ti, screams echoed through the villa, the scent of blood perating the air...
An hour later.
Baron Lawrence drove back to the hospital first.
Adam Sinclair saw the crimson stains on his clothes and said nothing, asked soone to bring him a new set of clothes, before leaving with Olivia Lewis.
User Comments
0 comments from readers