Chapter 160: Do We Break His Legs, or Take His Life?
Words : 2118
Updated : Dec 4th, 2025
Inside the reception room, Wilson Darbishire slumped on the sofa, caked in dust and ash. Bruises bloomed purple and blue across his face, legs, and arms; cuts marked him everywhere. His clothes were ripped to rags, smeared with red and black stains-blood and soot-and he had the air of a beggar dragged through hell.
The door snapped open. A white‑haired lieutenant general strode in, jaw set and eyes cold.
Wilson sprang up and saluted, hands trembling. "S‑sir!"
The lieutenant general glared...
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