The Almighty Dominance

Chapter 333

Previously, while Alex was still trapped in the prison cage, Major General Marcus Hale sat comfortably in his Chicago office, enjoying a cigar when his phone rang.

He picked it up casually.

"Laura Montclair," Marcus drawled with a lazy smirk. "You wanted this Alex guy dead, right? Consider it done. Mind telling me again who exactly he is?"

"He's just some nobody doctor running a tiny clinic in a Vancouver slum," Laura said coldly. "Nothing to worry about."

Marcus chuckled, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

"I've wiped out thousands like him—he'll vanish, no question. But..." He smirked, voice dropping into a darker tone.

"If you give me another night like last week, I might even take my time. Drag it out. What do you say?"

"Perfect," Laura shot back coldly. "I was craving that too."

The line went dead.

Barely moments later, the phone rang again. Marcus frowned when he saw the caller ID.

"Governor Tom Jones? What's the matter now?"

"I hear you're holding someone named Alex," Tom Jones said in a calm, icy voice.

Marcus grunted. "If you're talking about the Vancouver doctor, yeah, he's mine."

"I'll send you his photo. Confirm it's him," Tom ordered.

Marcus glanced at his phone, nodding sharply. "Yep, that's him."

"Good. Kill him," Tom said flatly. "Same rate as always, one hundred thousand dollars per person."

"Business as usual," Marcus shrugged.

"Actually, I'll triple it," Tom continued with a sinister edge. "But make it brutal. I want him to suffer horribly."

Marcus laughed darkly. "Consider it entertainment. I'll livestream his torture. You bring the popcorn."

The second Marcus ended the call, his phone rang twice more, with Dupont and Hernandez making identical demands.

Torture Alex. Make it agonizing. Kill him.

Marcus shook his head in disbelief, muttering to himself, "What the hell did this guy do to piss off four out of the five Chicago Lords?"

Suddenly, an assistant burst through the door, face pale, holding out a paper with trembling hands. "Sir, you need to see this."

Marcus snatched the paper and scanned it quickly. His eyes widened with shock and delight.

"Johnson's throwing a hundred million on this guy's head. That's not a bounty- that's a goldmine."

Marcus' eyes burned with greed, sharp and electric.

want him buried. Johnson-the fifth-wants his head on a spike. I bag him, and I'm set for life. This is my

abruptly, eyes blazing

of the field. We're going to put on a show. Torture him slowly, painfully, until

a tall post in the center of the open

an order, and a soldier stepped forward holding a whip

lash would shred flesh, exposing bone

barked, his voice

shot a glare at the

didn't come for conversation-they came for blood. Now

anxiously, whispering their grim expectations. "Poor Kid," someone muttered. "He'll be dead

Montana sneered at Alex,

whip has tasted

violently, forcing the whip to

howled in agony as the sharp barbs

gasped, horrified and

are you doing?" another soldier

anguish and confusion, his movements

time wrapping the whip tightly

trapped soldier gasped

Montana jerked

deep into the man's throat. Blood sprayed everywhere, staining the ground crimson as the soldier

frozen, his earlier confidence now replaced

pistol aimed straight at Montana. "Montana, stop

horror, desperately trying to shout, "My body

lips refused to open, sealed shut by some invisible

striking down any soldier who

action, his voice cold and ruthless. "Shoot

their

Samuel aimed directly at Montana

the

nearest comrade. Shock filled his eyes

and terror exploded among

firing wildly into his own

caught completely off guard, returned fire

bullets hit Samuel, he didn't fall. Like some kind

his

empty.

continued swinging his arms, whipping soldiers brutally

yet he moved as if he

one soldier screamed, panic infecting

Marcus stood frozen, disbelief

on his hardened face. He

seen countless battles, slaughtered

blinking but never anything

the scene chilled him to

through the chaos. He