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?

please give me your instructions," replied Gerald, suppressing the metallic taste

men in the police station and this will be settled,"

when he heard the words

Kill?

before. Despite their training, their usual orders only involved beating people. He

skills, how could he possibly take a

he was pressed down by Abel's subordinate. "Boss doesn't want to see

this, he trembled even more. He lowered his head until it almost touched the

kill people," Gerald quivered as he

of those trained and

patience left with you. You have two choices, so choose one.” Abel said, forcing Gerald

either Jacob

teeth. "Boss, I can't die. I'll

Mr. Shanks," Abel commanded. He then lifted a glass of red

human blood. It sloshed with

and

apartment suite. Shanks lived

of blood. He

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

troublesome." Shanks glanced at

person failed to complete the task Abel had assigned

rule on the Island of Despair was simple. If one failed

it was, Abel still chose these Caucasians to

down on them. It was just that their training was far simpler compared to the killers who underwent rigorous training on the Island

quality of the two groups was vastly

these temporarily recruited Caucasians to run errands, but was it not akin to sending them to their deaths if they were assigned

to the brink of disability or death, he

Caucasians was not as good

beaten up were always left gasping for breath, the ones from

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

message for me. Tell him to be more careful in the future. Either don't beat them up or don't bring them to me. I'm not here to professionally save people," said Shanks. His

deliberately avoided vital areas while beating him. There