NovelEnglish| scowled, a chill running down my spine. Inch's gun-waving was just a bluff, a show to keep the old man from thinking he could ever escape.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe guards hauled the man back from the field. Previously, | had not gotten a good look at the old man, but now his face seemed eerily familiar. He was a patchwork of fresh and old wounds, a testament to the horrors he had endured here. His legs were impaled with the teeth of the traps, a gruessouvenir from his failed escape.
As they dragged him off, Inch followed.
I could not help but ask Rebecca, "Why are they doing this to an old man?" She bit her lip, hesitating. "I'm not sure. Word is he was sent over by Kenneth to be kept under our boss's thumb.
The boss was not keen on roughing him up at first, but the old guy kept trying to bolt, and it ticked the boss off.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmSo, he decided to teach him a lesson. The old timer's tough as nails, though. No matter what's done to him, he's always looking for a chance to break free as soon as he can stand." She glanced at me, a hint of accusation in her eyes. "He was supposed to be too weak to run, but you had Inch patch him up last time. That's why he had the strength to try again today. But after today's ordeal, he's not going anywhere anytsoon." | bit my lip, a crease forming between my eyebrows as | spoke, "The guy's already half-dead. Why doesn't Lucas just finish him off?" In the dimness of that room, | could not help but wonder. An old man, barely clinging to life, was there, with Lucas wasting tand effort on torture instead of just ending it. He even let the guy try to escape over and over, like stwisted gof cat and mouse. What was he playing at? Rebecca gave a small shake of her head, "I'm not too sure myself. Rumor has it the old guy was a cop. Years back, he was deep undercover, collecting dirt on Kenneth's crimes. When Kenneth caught on, he was marked for death. For sreason, however, Kenneth shipped him off to our boss instead. The boss, on the other hand, did not kill him either. Just kept him alive. Weird, right?" | frowned, trying to piece it together. An undercover cop, left alive just to be tormented? Maybe this old timer had really ticked off Kun, who wanted him to suffer a fate worse than death. So he handed him over to Lucas, with instructions not to kill, just to keep up the torment? With the sick minds of these people, it was not too far-fetched.
For sreason, | felt compelled to follow. However, | had barely taken a few steps when Ruo Ruo grabbed me, her eyes wide with worry. "Ms. Scott, where are you headed?" | glanced at the old man being hauled away and replied, "Just going to check things out." She shook her head fiercely, her voice stern, "You can't. The boss said no talking to them. We can't get involved in their fate, or we'll end up just like them, or worse." Her face had gone white as she spoke, fear written all over i) Seeing her so scared, | gave her hand a reassuring pat and said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to stir up trouble. | just want to see how he is holding up." | had just finished speaking when | trailed behind. Inch had tossed the old guy into a pitch-black room and clanged the door shut on an iron cage. This place was a torture chamber with a twist—nothing new to me.
| watched Inch stride off before Rebecca and | dared to peek out. We wanted to check on the old man, but the dark room was guarded. Glancing at Rebecca, who was shaking her head as if she were playing sinvisible drum, all serious-like, | saw her resolve. "No can do, Ms. Scott," she insisted. "You said we were just looking, not touching. | can't help you with anything else." | could not help but flash a cheeky smile at her, tugging at her arm. "Con, Rebecca, you have got to have strick up your sleeve, right?" Her face scrunched up like a used paper bag, and she gavethis look like she was about to cry. "Ms. Scott, if he finds out, | am a goner." That just mademore curious. "So, you do have a way?" She let out this big sigh, the picture of misery.
| chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't worry, | just want to see how bad the old man's hurt. I'm not gonna stir up trouble. Trust me, if | had the chops for that, | would've bolted from this place ages ago."
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