"Anna Thornton, I’m hurting so much! Say sothing nice to cheer up!"
"Say sothing nice?"
"Like you like , you’ve fallen in love with ! Praise this Young Master for being exceptionally handso, captivating, making you head over heels, wishing you could just have a bunch of cute little babies with on the spot!"
In the hospital’s surgical stitching room, Finn Grant was both letting the doctor treat his wounds and teasing Anna Thornton.
Nonsense, how could it hurt when you’ve been given anesthesia?
Though, to be honest, Finn Grant’s injuries are quite serious.
Anna Thornton had originally wanted to retort, but when she raised her eyes to see the ghastly wound on the other’s abdon, she instinctively swallowed her words.
The doctor said if Finn Grant’s wound had been cut a centiter deeper, things would have been unimaginable; his intestines would have been exposed.
It’s truly insane!
Even if he wanted to pull a sympathy stunt, he wouldn’t deliberately get himself hurt like this.
Just so superficial injuries would suffice, yet this Young Master Grant was as if afraid his injuries weren’t serious enough.
The whole of Aethelgard says Finn Grant isn’t quite right ntally, but since Anna Thornton has been interacting with him, she’s actually treated him like a normal person. It’s only during monts like these that she realizes the differences between her and Finn Grant, unable to grasp Young Master Grant’s bizarre thought processes.
The key is that at this mont, Finn Grant was simultaneously playing the victim while trying out so cheesy lines to amuse Anna Thornton.
"Anna, I want to give you a precious gift!" Finn Grant handed her a roll of used, blood-soaked gauze.
"No way!"
"This represents giving you all thirteen of my wounds! This must be the most peculiar gift you’ve ever received, right?"
"Indeed, never received anything so bizarre, get lost!"
Finn Grant: "..."
Anna Thornton was already feeling annoyed!
The whole stitching room was filled with the bloody scent of Finn Grant, surrounded by stern-faced doctors and nurses stitching up his thirteen wounds.
While he didn’t seem to care about pain, Anna Thornton was afraid she’d get goosebumps when confronting even slightly aty-slling food in the near future.
Another person was injured worse than Finn Grant, and that was Conrad Sterling.
But from what the doctors and nurses discussed, President Sterling was not in a rush to treat his wounds. After bringing Riley Osborne to the hospital, it was unclear where he went to!
He seems to have more important things to attend to!
Finn Grant found it strange, how co the Sterling guy didn’t co to compete with him this ti for attention in front of Anna Thornton.
Must be because he was beaten in the face, feeling ashad, afraid of losing face to him, hahaha...
Anna Thornton noticed how Finn Grant subconsciously lifted his clean and charming face, as if he had sothing to be proud of, even winking a single eye at her.
Anna Thornton received this odd brain-wink, making her suspect if she was carrying so sort of improper magnetic field.
Why else would every man she attracts be a lunatic, none being normal?
One like this, two like that, and even three like that...
Now that she’s out of danger, she can only hope her guess is wrong, that Scrapper won’t et the supposed big-shot she suspects.
’The first lunatic,’ may he please stay away from her.
Yet, things backfired—
Once Scrapper got away, he finally reached the rendezvous point with the Europe and Arica big-shot.
He heard this big-shot hates lateness, so he didn’t even have ti to treat his wounded palm, enduring intense pain to get there.
His hands couldn’t even be called hands anymore; they should be called ’red paint-soaked bear paws’!
When he saw the legendary big-shot, Scrapper nearly had his jaw drop, perhaps not expecting him to be so young.
A blond man with high cheekbones, featuring the traditional refined bone structure of Europeans and Aricans, yet sporting red hair.
As Scrapper approached within a three-ter radius of him, the man’s brows furrowed unpleasantly, covering his nose.
"Stop!" The burly black bodyguard beside him stopped Scrapper, speaking in a very standard Chinese accent.
Upon hearing this, Scrapper quickly halted.
"What’s going on?" The black bodyguard stared at Scrapper’s hand, continuing to ask.
"Wasn’t I trying to prepare a gift, to present Mr. Smith with an unmatched beauty? Who knew it’d get snatched and I ended up hurt like this!"
Scrapper showed off his blood-drenched bear paw-like hands, in pain, his face pale with cold sweat flowing freely. That mix of sweat and the red liquid dripping onto the smooth white porcelain tile, sticking together, appeared extraordinarily out of place, making for an unpleasant aroma.
The red-haired man with a severe cleanliness obsession had clearly had enough, yet Scrapper didn’t catch the change of expression and continued complaining, "Mr. Smith, those who dare to compete with you for won are Conrad Sterling and Finn Grant."
Scrapper didn’t ntion that his hand was shot by Anna Thornton, attempting to provoke disputes between Smith, Conrad Sterling, and Finn Grant instead.
The reasoning was simple: first let the more formidable big-shot deal with the tricky backing of the two, setting up a tiger fight among the three.
As for Anna Thornton, Scrapper was keeping the grudge of a severed hand.
One day she’d fall into his grasp, then he’d settle the score, initially torturing her with tenfold or hundredfold agony, letting his brothers gang her, and finally kill her!
Smith didn’t have much interest in Scrapper initially, thinking this small fry with minor backing dared to dream of joining under his banner? Even stupid enough to think using so provocation could leverage him?
But when his eyes scanned Scrapper’s wound, Smith’s gaze suddenly brightened.
"Your wound, caused by a woman?" Smith rarely spoke, yet his Chinese was surprisingly fluent.
"Yes!" Scrapper didn’t know how he saw through it.
Since it was spotted, he didn’t intend to hide it, even starting to curse loudly, "That damn hag, next ti don’t let catch you!"
The word "hag" successfully made Smith show an unhappy expression.
He glanced at the bodyguard, not even bothering to speak himself.
But the bodyguard had already fathod his intentions, stepping forward to grab Scrapper’s collar, dragging him out entirely.
Scrapper thought the big-shot was showing him rcy, having the bodyguard take him to see a doctor.
Though indeed, the actions were a bit rough.
So when the cold gun barrel aid precisely at his temple, Scrapper was stupefied, "T-this... is it mistaken? I’m here to seek allegiance, and I got quite a lot of Southern force and brothers under , we haven’t even begun negotiations!"
Perhaps seeing him too dumb, letting him die knowing might be the point.
The black bodyguard kindly explained before shooting, "No negotiation, due to you offending our boss’s pet!"
Pet?
What pet?
Scrapper wouldn’t get the chance to find out this lifeti!
The black bodyguard wiped clean his gun, on his way back, bringing back to his boss two bullets retrieved from Scrapper’s hand.
Already washed clean!
Smith put on white gloves, and a perfectly smooth bullet ran between his fingers, showing interest!
"Anna, my little pet, huh..."
"Bobby, do you think she’s been missing recently?"
"Uh..." The black bodyguard lowered his head slightly, afraid to respond.
When faced with such deadly questions, he only hoped the boss himself had so asure of understanding.
"Heartless one, ti to capture and keep her locked back in the cage!" The man’s smile at the corner of his lips was dangerously aningful!
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