Seated inside the main chamber of the Slave Trade Guild hideout, Thoren stared at the few mbers of the guild groaning in pain. His face was expressionless.
The main chamber was wide, dim, and filled with the nauseating sll of blood. Broken furniture lay scattered across the floor, while cracked walls carried fresh marks from the recent battle.
Lying on the ground, an ordinary looking young man with his legs severed from his waist was wincing continuously, blood flowing out from his injuries. It was ghastly and grueso to look at.
His face was pale, and his breathing was ragged.
He was a Level 35 Berserker and had an A Rank talent that increased his size and power.
But the side effect was that he lost his reasoning, turning into a blood sucking beast that would not hesitate to eat his opponent alive.
With the talent, he had fought his way to the second floor, and when he joined the Slave Trade Guild, his strength increased sharply, leaving only a few to be his opponent.
He had once believed his talent was a blessing.
He had once believed his brutality made him different from ordinary awakeners.
He had once believed that anyone who feared him deserved to be crushed beneath his feet.
But now, before he could even attack his enemy, he was taken down with such ease.
Even their terrifying captain could not take him down with such ease.
Under his grievous tornt, he glanced at the silver haired young man and trembled.
He knew he was evil, scary, and feared by many, but compared to this young man, he felt strangely small.
His instinct told him he was far from him.
Brutal.
rciless.
Savage.
Ruthless.
This young man had everything and more. More importantly, he did not have to act. Instinctively, his gaze shifted to the two cloaked figures behind him.
Others might not be able to tell, but he could. He did not sense any life force from them, and this could only an one thing.
They were undead servants.
But how was that possible?
Just from the sounds of battle, he could sense there were more than two undead servants around the building. While he was lost in thought, he failed to see the undead Storm Tyrant arriving beside him.
Ahhhhh! Ahhhhh!
A soul rending scream echoed inside the room, jolting everyone from their stupor. The Guild Vice Captain and everyone else shivered, their faces drained of color.
They turned their heads and stared at the cloaked figure as it brutally broke all the bones in their colleague’s arms.
Bones and flesh were mangled into paste.
Huh!
Each of them sucked in a cold breath.
Fear gripped their hearts like a vice. Their stomachs twisted inside out.
They were not new to the sight of pain and blood. But this was too much for them.
They had watched captives scream until their voices broke.
They had seen cruelty, practiced cruelty, and profited from cruelty.
But now, that sa cruelty had fallen upon their own bodies.
Weep! Weep!
Out of the four lying on the ground, a young man in his early twenties could not help himself as he started to weep. His lips trembled, blood flowing out continuously, but he seed not to see it.
"P Please... kill ..." he pleaded.
The sight around him was too stimulating, breaking him from the inside out. He thought he was brave and courageous, and that nothing could move him. But he was wrong.
Too wrong.
Just the thought of experiencing the inhuman torture scared the life out of him. He would rather die than go through such hell. As for biting his tongue for a quick death, he did not even think of it.
One of them that tried to commit suicide by biting his tongue had his jaw broken and his tongue forcefully removed while keeping him alive. This made the ssage clear.
Crystal clear.
Before this silver haired and deep blue eyed young man, they were not allowed to kill themselves.
Thus, he could only plead for death.
He wanted it badly.
He wished for it with all his might.
He even prayed for it in his heart.
Right now, he wanted nothing but to escape from this nightmare.
Not only him, but every one of them.
Now, he understood why those they captured and tortured previously had relieved smiles when they finally decided to kill them. Death was not a scary thing. Perhaps, it was even a good thing.
Instead of experiencing such inhumane agony, death was the better choice.
It would bring peace.
Escape from all the suffering.
And perhaps...
Perhaps they would not have to struggle in this endless trial anymore in their next life. That was if there was an afterlife. While he was lost in his reverie, he failed to notice Thoren’s cold eyes falling on him.
"I can fulfill your request, but first, you must answer a few of my questions," Thoren said, his voice cold and flat.
Hmm?
The guild mbers raised their heads and stared at him while groaning in pain. Any slight movent put their bodies in so much pain. Their bodies spasd uncontrollably.
Hope and terror appeared in their eyes at the sa ti.
To them, the offer of death had beco rcy.
But they also understood that if their answers did not satisfy him, even death might beco sothing beyond their reach.
"Who is the boss among you?" he asked.
Before he even finished his question, two of them had pointed at the ordinary looking young man with his waist severed. Seeing this, Thoren was not surprised.
"I am the vice-captain," he said slowly.
He had already accepted his fate. And he could only hope this devil would be done with him as quickly as possible so he could die and have rest.
The vice captain’s voice was weak, but his mind remained clear.
At this point, resistance was aningless.
Threats were aningless.
Loyalty was aningless.
The Slave Trade Guild had taught them many things, but it had never taught them how to face a monster that could turn their entire hideout into a slaughterhouse within minutes.
"Good. Tell everything about your guild mission and list all your mbers who are not present right now," Thoren demanded, his voice slow and unhurried.
"Do not forget to tell where I can find your captain."
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