Twins in Her Womb: Sir President, Please be Gentle by Heap Heap

Abel sat on the couch. The genuine leather couch engulfed half of his body.

He adjusted into a comfortable position and stared straight ahead at the person before him.

Gerald felt his heart race under Abel's gaze. Was he in trouble?

"Beat him," Abel suddenly spoke in Russian.

Gerald did not understand what he meant and turned to look at those men beside him. After they received Abel's command, they immediately began raining blows on Gerald.

"Stop it, stop it! I was wrong, I was wrong!" After getting beaten up so many times, Gerald instinctively crouched down and hugged his head to protect himself.

"Hit him, and hit him hard!" Abel's eyes were fierce. Even though he did not understand what Gerald said and no one was interpreting it for him, he could tell Gerald was pleading for mercy.

Half an hour later, Gerald collapsed. His face was swollen and bruised, and his limbs were covered in bruises.

Gerald was miserable, but no one begged for mercy for him. The two men who beat him dared not show any mercy. They knew if they did, they would be in trouble themselves.

Hence, they kicked him hard.

"Ugh..." Gerald gave up begging for mercy. He even felt like he might die here today.

He could not help but recall what was said during the training for the Island of Despair. It was true. If they failed their missions, they would likely face death, unless there was a turning point...

Abel watched Gerald, who was almost breathless from the beating. He tilted his head slightly, signaling his subordinates to stop.

When they received the signal, they stopped. "Kneel," commanded Abel.

Gerald heard him. It took him a while to snap out of it before he finally reacted. Then, he slowly kneeled.

"Gerald, I'm giving you another chance," Abel muttered slowly, with someone interpreting for Gerald.

Gerald let out a cold shiver. Was this the turning point they talked about?

However, could he really do it?

your instructions," replied Gerald, suppressing the metallic

the two men in the police station and this

shiver ran through Gerald when he heard the words the interpreter

Kill?

training, their usual orders only involved beating people. He had never killed

could he possibly take a

down by Abel's subordinate. "Boss doesn't want to see your

heard this, he trembled even more. He lowered his head until it

I can't kill people,"

the capabilities of those trained and deployed. However, there were only

you don't kill this time, you'll be killed. I don't have much patience left with you. You have two choices, so choose one.” Abel said, forcing Gerald to make a decision. He sounded like a

was either Jacob

clenched his teeth. "Boss, I can't die.

commanded. He then lifted a glass of red

blood. It sloshed with each movement

nodded and proceeded

family-style apartment suite. Shanks lived upstairs

Gerald upstairs, Shanks could already smell the strong scent of blood. He listened to the footsteps and casually asked, "Did your boss beat up

upstairs and dropped him on the floor. One

glanced at Gerald.

to complete the task

was simple. If

it was, Abel still chose these Caucasians

that their training was far simpler compared to the killers who underwent rigorous training on the Island of

of the two

was alright for these temporarily recruited Caucasians to run errands, but was it not akin to sending them to their

someone to the brink

not as good as those from the

left gasping for breath, the ones from the Island of Despair

leaving him with you. Thank you." The two men exchanged a

careful in the future. Either don't beat them up or don't bring

men had deliberately avoided vital areas while beating him. There was no reckless striking, so this person should