Chapter 3: Brutal Payback On Scoundrels

"When I'm done, you guys go next!" Luke licked his lips, his face flushed with excitement. The two hulking men beside him, hearing his words, licked their lips in anticipation, ready to pounce. Just as Luke reached out his hand toward Freya's chest. Boom! The door of the private room burst open with a thunderous crash. Everyone jumped in shock. A dark figure appeared in the doorway, like a demon crawling out from the underworld, casting a chilling shadow. Instinctively, everyone turned to look. "Who the hell is ruining my good time?" Luke cursed. Caroline's face turned ghostly pale as she recognized the familiar face entering the room. "Walter!" she shrieked. At her cry, Luke paused and turned to see Walter walking in with an icy expression. "Well, the jailbird is back!" "Poor bastard, you heard about it, didn't you? Your woman was in my bed by the third day after you went in jail." "Didn't think you'd be out early, you useless wretch!" Luke taunted, crossing his arms, mocking Walter. Walter didn't reply. His gaze fixed on Freya, lying on the ground. In that moment, rage consumed him. His eyes were blood-red—a towering fury threatening to consume him if he didn't unleash it. "Walter, is it you? Help me, save me." Hearing Walter's name, Freya woke from despair, struggling to open her eyes. Seeing Walter before her, a faint smile appeared on her face. "Walter, cat got your tongue?" "Why aren't you saying anything? Feeling sorry for your dear sister? Don't worry, I'll have her right before you!" "Boys, hold him down! Pry his eyes open! The show is about to begin. He can't miss this!" Luke suddenly devised a vicious plan, screaming like a madman. Five strong men rolled their sleeves at his command and advanced menacingly toward Walter. Walter snickered, exhaling a visible frosty breath. His laugh was like the Grim Reaper's chill. As he lifted his head, his icy gaze made the five men hesitate in fear. Then, Walter moved like a bolt of lightning, a blur of speed. "Die!" Walter roared, his voice thunderous. Like a raging tiger, he swung his fist, sending two men flying. Bang! Crack! The sounds of impact and breaking bones echoed simultaneously. Blood splattered in mid-air. Only three men remained standing, frozen in shock. In the next instant, Walter executed a spinning kick, shattering their noses. Their bodies twirled twice in the air before crashing down, their fates uncertain. It all happened in a flash. Four men were down—the last one trembling on his knees. Walter turned and rushed to stand before the stunned Luke. Luke stumbled back in fear, while Walter leaned forward, their faces inches apart. Cold breaths from Walter's mouth hit Luke's face. "You touch my sister. I'll kill your family!" "I'll start with you, make you regret ever being born!" Walter's words were like a death sentence, which left Luke collapsing under the pressure, drenched in cold sweat. Crack! Walter stepped forward, crushing Luke's leg. Luke howled in pain, eyes rolling back. "Argh!" "It hurts, it hurts so much. Help! Help!" Before he could finish, Walter stomped on his mouth, again and again, until Luke's head was smashed. Blood pooled on the floor. Even after Luke was dead, Walter continued crushing every bone in Luke's body. "Ahh!" "Murder! There's a murder!" Caroline snapped out of her stupor, making a run for the exit. Walter's gaze flickered, and he swiftly grabbed a coffee table, hurling it with force. Crash! The glass shattered, and the table cracked, knocking Caroline. Blood spilled from her mouth. Her face filled with terror while her body trembled. Walter walked over, bent down, and grabbed her hair. "Walter, I was wrong. I still love you. It was Luke who threatened me to accuse you, I didn't dare defy him." "Don't kill me, please, I'm begging you!" "Freya, for the sake of me being Walter's ex-girlfriend…" Walter gave Caroline no chance to plead, slamming her head into the ground. She was dead instantly. The last bodyguard was driven mad with fear, screaming incoherently. Walter ignored him, walked over, removed his jacket, and covered Freya, lifting her into his arms. "Don't worry, Freya. I'm taking you home," he said, tears welling up. Freya was sobbing uncontrollably. "You jerk! Why did you take so long to come back?" "Mom and Dad..." Her fists weakly pounded against Walter's chest. Walter took a deep breath, lifting his head, and carried Freya out of the room. ... On the outskirts of Draconia, in front of a new gravestone in a cemetery. Walter knelt, burning paper offerings. The gravestone bore the names of his foster parents. He never imagined that upon his release, something would happen to them. "Mom, Dad, though we're not blood-related, you raised me. Rest in peace, I'll take care of Freya." He bowed his head to the gravestone. With each bow, memories of his foster mother's care and his foster father's sternness echoed in his ears. They had treated him like their son, but their deaths were not accidents. They were thrown from a building at a construction site. Though the authorities closed the case, Freya told Walter their parents' death was due to the demolition of their house. A group was after them, trying to force the house transfer. His parents didn't care about the house. They were only worried that without it, Walter would return without a home. Walter lifted his head, his gaze bloodshot. His ears caught the sound of footsteps behind him. "Big Wolf, it's him! The bastard is back!" Angry shouts rang out. Walter turned to see a gang of thugs approaching, wielding machetes. Leading them was a burly man with a bleeding wolf head tattooed on his chest, exuding a menacing aura. Most would be terrified at the sight. "You must be Walter Shaw, the son of those two old fools, huh?" "Those old fools are dead. I arrived on time to meet you. I heard you just got out of prison. Who looked after you in there?" Big Wolf, the leader, picked his nose disdainfully. Behind him, over thirty thugs, all tattooed and exuding viciousness. One of them even unzipped his pants to urinate on the gravestones, whistling mockingly. Seeing this, Walter furrowed his brow, exuding a chilling aura.