The burly man was in so much pain that tears and snot sared his face, his expression ferocious, yet he clenched his teeth and endured the agonizing pain, not daring to make a single sound.
He was terrified, afraid that the next mont he would really turn into minced at.
At this mont, the couple of human traffickers at the inn who acted in collusion were also efficiently tied up by Mr. West’s n, dragged out roughly, with cloth stuffed in their mouths, muffling their cries.
It was truly satisfying!
Mr. West steadily carried Stella Grant, heading back towards the inn.
His steps weren’t fast, but very steady, and the person in his arms didn’t experience any jolting.
He gently placed her back onto the large bed, ticulously covering her with the quilt.
The room was very dark, with only a little glow coming from outside the window.
He stretched out his hand, his fingers well-defined, gently brushed aside her disheveled bangs from her forehead.
His fingertips touched her warm skin.
He looked at her peaceful sleeping face, his gaze deep, carrying a warmth even he hadn’t noticed.
He bent down, picked up the fallen golden badge from the ground, and instead of giving it back to her directly, placed it on the bedside table.
After doing all this, he turned around and silently walked out of the room.
The door was gently closed.
The sky gradually lightened with the first signs of dawn.
The ghost-like shadows stationed outside the inn slowly retreated, as if they had never appeared.
The next morning.
Stella Grant got up early, feeling she had slept well and was full of energy.
After eting with Tom Sumrs, they hired two local bodyguards and quickly rented a rugged off-road vehicle, heading straight for the forest outside the city, aiming for the abandoned water tower warehouse.
The vehicle left the urban area and entered the outer forest, a dense rubber plantation.
Stella Grant took out the golden badge, flashed it in front of a specific device, and a path silently opened up in the seemingly impassable rubber trees.
The off-road vehicle smoothly passed through, entering the deeper, more primitive forest.
By the ti they finally reached the remote water tower warehouse, the sky had turned sowhat gloomy.
The iron door of the warehouse was ajar, and Stella Grant’s gaze tightened as she pushed open the door.
Inside was empty, with only a large, dark brown dried bloodstain on the ground, shocking in size.
"God N, I’ve been waiting for you for a long ti!"
Suddenly, a deep voice ca from outside the warehouse, and seven or eight ard n charged out from the woods, surrounding them.
The leading man was handso, yet his gaze fierce: "Co with us."
At a glance, Stella Grant could tell these people weren’t Erwin’s n.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" she shouted in a low voice.
The man sneered, "We’ll capture you and you’ll know."
Instantly, a fight broke out, and the so-called bodyguards were quickly knocked down! Useless!
Stella Grant knew little about fighting, leaving only Tom Sumrs to face seven opponents alone.
Suddenly, Seraphina’s tall figure darted out like an apparition, her moves fierce, but the opponents were nurous, and soon surrounded Seraphina and Tom Sumrs separately.
"Tom Sumrs!" Seraphina shouted toward Tom’s direction, "Take her and go!"
Two enemies saw this and laughed cruelly as they drew their pistols, aiming their dark muzzles at them.
Seraphina’s gaze turned cold, instead of retreating, she advanced, charging forward swiftly and kicked one of the n’s guns accurately out of his hand!
Almost simultaneously, her other hand moved like a shadow, in a flash subtracted the bullets from the chamber of his comrade’s gun, to their astonishnt!
The action was clean and crisp, extrely sharp!
"Bang!"
At this mont, another gunshot broke the forest’s silence.
Seraphina grunted, her body staggered back a step, crimson blood quickly seeped from her left shoulder.
But she just gritted her teeth, and the fighting spirit in her eyes remained undiminished.
"Go!" Seraphina shouted again with urgent determination.
Tom Sumrs punched to fend off an enemy, fighting fiercely while doing his best to protect Stella Grant, struggling to retreat.
The pursuit behind them was relentless like maggots in a corpse.
Stella Grant was greatly exhausted, feeling her lungs burning painfully, her steps gradually slowing.
Suddenly, another group ca rushing out from the forest’s other side, all heavily ard with fierce firepower!
Good grief, this was truly Erwin’s real force!
The leading man was burly, with crisscrossed scars on his face so deep they showed bone, as if soone had cruelly slashed a big X on his face.
His look was ferocious, his voice coarse like sandpaper, shouting from afar: "God N! Hand over the antidote, and I’ll let you die quickly!"
This person was Erwin’s most capable subordinate, nicknad "Black Eagle."
Stella Grant took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm, and said loudly, "It’s been four years now. Erwin only has three months left to live. Have him surrender, and I will save him."
Upon hearing this, Black Eagle burst into an ear-splitting, mad laugh: "Facing death, and still so arrogant, God N, today you have nowhere to run! Get her! Capture her!"
He waved his big hand, and the ard n behind him rushed up like wolves and tigers.
Tom Sumrs was struggling at this mont, facing a dozen heavily ard enemies, encountering one danger after another.
Seeing the two were about to be overwheld and trapped.
At the critical mont!
"Roar—"
The roar of engines drew closer, and three modified black off-road vehicles crash through bushes with overpowering montum, kicking up withered leaves, and making a beautiful skid stopping at the battlefield’s edge.
The car doors opened, a dozen n in uniform black combat suits jumped quickly out, their weapons instantly spitting fire, suppressing Black Eagle’s n with powerful firepower!
"Leave none alive," a cold and magnetic male voice resounded, commanding with undeniable authority.
Mr. West stepped down from the driver’s seat, standing tall; even amid the chaotic gunfire, he remained calm and unruffled.
He quickly walked over to Stella Grant, ignoring the dirt and the sll of blood on her, and picked her up horizontally, placing her in the passenger seat of the off-road vehicle.
Stella Grant was still in shock and hadn’t reacted yet.
Mr. West’s gaze fell on her fair hand, where there was a several-inch-long scratch, oozing with beads of blood.
His deep eyes suddenly tightened, his heart pounding a few tis, and his face darkened.
Suddenly, he leaped out of the car, walked straight to the leader, and fiercely punched him; with just three punches and two kicks, he beat the man so that blood spattered all over his face, and he slumped to the ground.
His dashing figure and ruthless moves were simply a visual feast.
He dragged over the "Black Eagle" lying like a dead dog, stepping directly on his face with his black boot.
"Was it you who hurt her?" His tone was filled with hostility and anger.
Black Eagle had long turned into a defenseless eagle, struggling to say, "No, it wasn’t ."
Mr. West pulled out a black handgun from his waist, walked to the front of the car, and pressed Stella Grant’s head into his arms, covering her little ears with a large hand.
Then, "Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" Four bullets precisely hit the man’s four limbs, blood gushing from the four holes in Black Eagle’s body, causing him to moan in pain.
"Ah!" Stella Grant couldn’t help but let out a scream.
Mr. West sowhat regretted his impulsiveness just now, gently patting her back to soothe her, "Don’t be afraid, it’s okay."
Stella Grant was confused again, wondering why it felt like Mr. West was showing her a bit of... affection?
Was it her illusion?
Before long, everyone cleaned up the scene and drove away with the captives.
All that was left on the ground was a bleeding "Black Eagle," a "gift" for Erwin, and Mr. West’s declaration of war against Erwin!
Mr. West took out a delicate first aid kit, removed a white dical handkerchief, and ticulously but with an undeniable force, bandaged her wound carefully.
His gentle movents were completely unlike the imposing aura he had earlier.
Stella Grant felt sowhat uneasy and quickly said, "It’s okay, just a small cut, maybe when I was running, I accidentally got scratched by a branch. Thank you for coming to rescue !"
The man’s bandaging motion paused for a mont, then he lifted his head, his expression still so dark it could drip water.
He forced a cold and indifferent deanor, exuding a domineering presence, "You people have devastated my forest."
"Shouldn’t you pay for the damages?"
Stella Grant: "..."
She was speechless for a mont, was all this commotion just... to collect a debt?
No, there must be sothing off with Mr. West’s mind... (Yes, just what you’re thinking.)
...
In a presidential suite, Vivi Sterling woke up when it was already broad daylight.
Sunlight stread through the curtains, making her eyes sting a bit.
The scene from yesterday crashed into her mind without warning; she sat up straight in bed, her heart racing.
She rembered that yesterday here, she had t Mr. Zimrman, and that man didn’t touch her but instead helped her detoxify the drug.
That silver mask made her once again think that Mr. Zimrman was Number Seventeen.
A few minutes later, dressed in a bathrobe, she took a deep breath and opened the door.
"Creak——"
At the door stood two tall and robust bodyguards in black suits, expressionless like door gods.
Vivi Sterling steadied herself and spoke, "I want to see Mr. Zimrman."
One of the bodyguards didn’t even lift his eyelid, speaking in a cold and hard tone, "Do you think you can just see Mr. Zimrman whenever you want?"
She beckoned to one of the bodyguards with a deliberately coquettish voice, "Hey handso, co in and play with ?"
With that, she suddenly reached out, grabbed the bodyguard by the collar, and pulled him into the room!
Six and a half minutes later.
"Bang!"
The door was kicked open from the outside; Zane Zimrman appeared at the door, his face ashen, exuding an intimidating low pressure.
The bodyguard, still in a state of shock, saw his boss had arrived and quickly slipped away; this woman was truly terrifying!
Vivi Sterling stepped forward and smiled brightly, "Good morning, Mr. Zimrman, would you like to join for breakfast?"
"Join you for breakfast? Do you have a big face?" His tone was extrely displeased.
"Is it big? Why don’t you asure it?" She boldly grabbed his large hand, placed it on her cool cheek, and nuzzled like a cat.
The soft touch made Zane Zimrman’s heart skip a beat; damn it... what a handful!
This woman, bold, damn!
anwhile, Mr. West took Stella Grant back to the renowned Los Castle.
This was a true ancient castle, typical of dieval architectural style, with tall and sturdy stone walls.
The interior of the castle, however, was not as eerie as imagined; extravagant wall carvings could be seen everywhere, intricately detailed, and each painting exuded a rich sense of historical depth, silently telling ancient stories.
The air was filled with a faint scent of pine wood as he led her through a long corridor, finally stopping in front of a carved oak door.
Opening the door revealed a spacious room, elegantly furnished, with large French windows overlooking a neatly trimd garden.
"It’s safe here; you can rest for a while." Mr. West’s voice was low and pleasant, carrying a calming power.
Stella Grant surveyed this unfamiliar yet luxurious environnt, but her heart dared not relax.
She turned, looking at the man in front of her.
He was tall and imposing, dressed in a neat black combat suit, outlining a perfect broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted physique; she wondered what kind of unparalleled beauty lay beneath that half mask.
"Why did you help ?" she asked her lurking question.
He answered frankly, "Because I like you."
Stella Grant was obviously startled by this answer, then awkwardly smiled, "I heard, Mr. West doesn’t like won."
He slightly curved his lips: "I indeed don’t like won."
Pausing, he added, his tone carrying a hint of wickedness, "But that doesn’t an I can’t possess one!"
With that, he smiled wickedly, slowly approaching her...
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