The needle was thin and much shorter than those in normal syringes used for blood collection. Under normal circumstances, it shouldn't hurt too if a needle as short as this pricked one's skin. Yet, the leader was met with an entirely different sensation. Just as the tip of the needle plunged into his flesh, terrible pain shook him to the core.

Porter said calmly, "There's a little bit of liquid at the tip of the needle. You should already be feeling some of its effects. But you see, the liquid at the tip of this needle is just about a thousandth of the total amount of the medicine. Imagine how you'll feel after I inject the entire contents of the syringe into your body. I'll tell you: every time you breathe, it'll be as painful as sucking in a pile of broken glass into your trachea!"

The man was horrified. He immediately shouted, "Don't! Please don't! I'll talk! I'll tell you... I'll tell you everything!"

Ten minutes later...

Several black cars stopped in front of Mrs. Lewis's house, and a dozen men clad in black got out to join Porter inside the house. They then carried out the unconscious thugs into the cars.

Immediately after that, Porter escorted two women into one of the cars.

The cars then left the house, followed by the four cars that previously belonged to the Italian gang. All of the cars made their way to the pier.

The confused Mrs. Lewis, who was still in the dark, stayed behind with the company of three female soldiers from the Ten Thousand Armies. Soon-

vehicles were parked at the entrance of the Italian gang's casino, ready

Charlie into

Italy-made Beretta 92F pistol at Charlie and snarled arrogantly, "Mr. Wade, this pistol is produced in my hometown, Italy. It's one of the best pistols in the world. I won't hurt you if you cooperate with me, but if you try anything strange, I won't hesitate

held against his will." Since that's what you want. I'll cooperate with you.

absolutely no jamming or misfire!" Charlie sighed helplessly. There was a hint of pity in his voice as he said, "I can tell that you really like this

something

but he couldn't put his finger on it. What Charlie said didn't sound odd at first,

end, he let go of his

all, Charlie was akin to

the chef wielding a large cleaver ready

cut Charlie into pieces. It

who had

helpless fish turning the tables and cutting him into mincemeat instead never crossed his mind, so Andre remained complacent. Immediately afterwards, his

and

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