Salute To The General

Chapter 1787

Meanwhile. at the Leviathan Ice Warehouse. The air in the ice warehouse was heavy with the metallic stench of blood. A man in black was clutching a bloodied dagger.

He was standing before Thomas and Ivan. The duo had each been stabbed over ten times. The wounds were uneven and a horrifying sight to behold

A group of men surrounded the duo and the man clutching the dagger. They puffed on the cigarettes and drank beer, mildly intrigued by the scene before them.

"Vo, these two are quite tight-lipped.” “Right on. Cne did not utter a sound while the other one just wailed in pain, even fainting a couple of times. “But neither of them are willing to divulge anything. Idiots.”

The man in black licked the bloodied dagger and looked at Thomas before him as he sneered, "It's your turn again. Are you going to talk? I'm going to cut your nose off this time if you still refuse to tell me anything.”

Thomas was all tied up and covered in blood

He lifted his head to regard the man in black. All of a sudden, he spat a bloody sputum at the

man

He smirked, “There's nothing that I've never seen when I was at the North fighting in the war. Just save yourself the trouble and kill me right now.” The man in black was initially astounded, then seethed with fury for being spat on.

He swatted off the sputum from his face and bellowed, “Do you have a death wish? I am not planning to grant your wish though

off your nose, and let's see if you can still act all high and mighty

neck with his left hand. His right hand clutched the dagger, and just when he was about to chop off the man’s nose,

sense of despair washed over Thomas.

then, the ice warehouse's door was kicked down with

He traced everyone else's gaze and looked toward the door. A tall silhouette trailed behind a slender figure as they made

were Nathan

on a cigarette. He was greeted by the bloody sight, with Thomas and Ivan on their last breaths. His face

were red with

Whoosh!

at the duo. "Who are you guys?” The man in black raised a brow as he peered over

Reapers,” Nathan

donot know their place. Let me kill I off this quy rand I'l

then raised his dagger ruthlessly and was about to chop Thomas'

coldly, "How dare

right then, and it

sound of

butt hit the wrist of the man in black, knocking the dagger off his hand and right onto

pain. He clutched at his

his wris with justa flick of ac Cigarette butt. Terror was written all