Hans's face twisted with terror as his gaze darted frantically toward the hospital room door.

"Help... somebody, help..."

He screamed for help, but his voice was so faint it was almost inaudible.

That fear of death, the helplessness, the absolute despair-it was probably the same feeling Lizetta had when she begged him for mercy last night.

Remington's icy stare fixed on him, his hand gripping Hans's nape before landing a muffled punch on Hans's abdomen.

Hans's liver was severely damaged, and he had just undergone surgery. Now, the incision was bleeding profusely.

He winced in agony, his face contorting, eyes bloodshot, his expression filled with fear and begging.

"Are you going to talk or not?"

Remington didn't let go. Instead, his fingers tightened around the wound, rubbing and grinding, as blood trickled down his fingers.

As Hans's life ebbed away, his face was streaked with tears and snot.

Even in death, no one wants to die in such torment.

His lips moved weakly, "I... I don't know who he is... I swear I don't, please..."

He was begging for a quick end.

He looked weakly towards the door. This was a hospital, after all; the police were just outside.

as a criminal, he shouldn't be

was eerily silent, with no one coming

curled up in bruises and stiff from the cold, Remington only wished Hans's death could be slower. "Was it

wound again

Remington left the room, his demeanor was

cleaning the blood off his hands with

there and

plainclothes team leader peeked

the floor, his hospital gown soaked red with

doctors to rush in, hoist Hans

Hans coughing up blood, the monitor

doctor came out, declaring the patient was

Remington signaled Ray to escort the involved medical

The plainclothes leader approached,

Dashiell, rest assured,

today.

lid on

MS

can

happened. And make sure you keep a close watch on the suspect. We'll need

team leader was stunned. Hans was already

Hans was

they couldn't keep their cool, they'd surely

the plainclothes officer

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