At that mont, imdiately, Clinton couldn't hold himself back. His voice thundered through the room, filled with venom and disbelief. He glared at Jas like he had just been betrayed by his own blood.
"You dare snitch on your own father like this?" Clinton snapped, his eyes wide with fury. "What the hell is wrong with you, Jas?! You ungrateful, worthless fool! We pulled you out of the gutter! We gave you food, gave you a na, gave you a chance to live like a human, and this—this is how you repay us?!"
He shook his head violently, his hands tied to the chair trembling in rage. "You think you can just crawl in here with your slimy mouth and lie like this? A poor bastard like you, biting the hand that fed you. I should've let you rot in the streets!"
Clinton turned his head in the direction of Oliver. "Tell , how much did Oliver pay you? Huh?! How much did this bastard give you to spit this nonsense out? Say the price. I'll triple it. You want to be bought like a cheap dog? Fine! I'll buy you three tis over—just shut your damn mouth!"
But Jas didn't flinch. He didn't yell back. He didn't even try to explain himself. Instead, he just looked straight ahead, bruises still fresh on his face, eyes steady but tired. His voice ca out low, heavy with truth, but without regret.
"I'm not here to argue," Jas said, his tone calm yet firm.
"I didn't co here to beg or play gas either. I ca here to end this ss. So stop pretending you're innocent, stop trying to play the victim."
He turned slowly toward Clinton and Festus, locking eyes with them as he added, "Because everything every detail, every single piece of evidence you can imagine, I've already handed it all to Mr.Oliver."
At that mont, hearing what Jas just said, Clinton's blood boiled with rage. His body jerked violently against the ropes that bound him to the chair, his arms thrashing, legs kicking, teeth clenched in fury. The chair creaked beneath him, threatening to tip over from the force of his struggle, but Clinton didn't care he just wanted to break free. He wanted to lunge across the room and grab Jas by the throat.
"You bastard!" Clinton roared. "You damn bastard! If these ropes weren't holding right now, you'd be bleeding all over this place, Jas! You really think you can talk to like that?!"
He writhed harder, ignoring the pain cutting into his wrists. His face had turned red, veins bulging at his neck. "You think this chair can hold forever? Huh?! Just count your stars lucky that I can't get loose right now. Because if I did… if I did, you'd already be on the ground, begging!"
Then he turned his head sharply toward Jas, even though his vision was blurred from the sweat and fury clouding his eyes. "You have the guts to co here and talk like that? You snitch on my father? After everything he's done for you?! And you think you'll walk away from this?"
He spat to the floor, breathing heavily.
"Don't you get it? When I get out of this place, Jas… you're done. You're finished! I'll make sure your na gets erased from this city! I'll destroy everything that belongs to you."
His voice dropped lower, filled with venom. "You think Oliver and his band of useless thugs can do anything to us? You think this is how it ends?" Clinton sneered. "That will never happen. Not now. Not ever. You ssed with the wrong family."
At that mont, without wasting another second, Oliver slowly walked over to where Clinton was tied. His steps were calm, but there was sothing chilling about his presence. The air suddenly felt heavier.
Clinton, seeing Oliver approach, raised his head and locked eyes with him. There was no fear in Clinton's eyes only rage. His lips curled into a mocking sneer as he said loudly, "What are you going to do, huh? Why are you standing in front of like that? Get out of my face before I spit on you, you crazy pig."
He paused, breathing heavily through his nose. "You think this little show of yours scares ? You're a coward hiding behind fake threats. You won't dare—"
"PAK!!!"
Before he could finish, Oliver landed a powerful slap straight across Clinton's face so hard that the sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. Clinton's head twisted violently to the side from the force, and in that instant, five teeth flew out of his mouth and scattered on the floor like broken glass. Blood imdiately gushed from his lips, running down his chin.
The entire room fell dead silent for a second.
Clinton's eyes widened in shock. He tasted blood, felt the stinging pain searing through his face and jaw. He slowly turned his head back, his body trembling not from fear, but from pain and humiliation. He spat, expecting words to co out, but all he could manage was a wet splatter of blood and broken tooth fragnts. His vision blurred, and the room spun for a second.
"Aaaaaargh!" Clinton scread in pain. "My face… my mouth! You slapped ! You crazy bastard!"
Imdiately, Festus shouted from where he was tied, his voice trembling with fury. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO TO MY SON?! You assaulted my son right in front of ! Are you mad? You touch him again, and I swear—"
Oliver didn't even look back at him. He just stood tall, towering over the broken Clinton.
Clinton started sobbing like a child. The pain had finally caught up to him.
"My teeth! My cheek! My whole face is burning! I can't see clearly anymore!" he cried. "Father, you were there! You saw what he did! This bastard slapped ! My mouth is on fire! My head is spinning!"
Blood kept dripping from his lips, staining his shirt. His body shook, his pride shattered.
"You're going to pay for this, Oliver!" he scread. "I swear to God, you will pay for this with your life! I will make sure you suffer ten tis more than this! You think you've won?! You haven't seen anything yet!"
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