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?

replied Gerald, suppressing the metallic taste in

men in the police station and

shiver ran through Gerald when he

Kill?

Despite their training, their usual orders only

how could

who was afraid, lifted his head. However, he was pressed down by Abel's subordinate.

he trembled even more. He lowered his head until it almost touched the floor before he

I can't kill people," Gerald

out a cold sneer. He knew well the capabilities of those trained and deployed.

don't have much patience left with you. You have two choices, so choose

was either

his teeth. "Boss, I

him to Mr. Shanks," Abel commanded. He then lifted a glass of red wine and swirled

was like human blood. It sloshed with each movement and almost spilled over the rim

and

suite. Shanks lived upstairs while

strong scent of blood. He listened to the footsteps

in unison as they carried Gerald upstairs and dropped him on the floor. One

troublesome." Shanks glanced at Gerald.

complete

was simple. If one failed to complete his task, one either ended up injured or

as it was, Abel still chose these

that their training was far simpler

two groups

was it not akin to sending them to their deaths

brink of disability

was not as good as those from the Island of

were always left gasping for breath, the ones from the

you. Thank you." The two men exchanged a glance before one of them spoke.

don't beat them up or don't bring them to me. I'm

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

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