Chapter 597: Kneeling and Begging Still Wouldn't Cut It

No one bought pork trotters minced into paste. Salvatore Casson was clearly here to make trouble, yet Elisha Shadboult didn't dare offend him. He was terrified of getting beaten again, so he silently picked up a cleaver and started chopping. Clink, clank, clink-the blade rang against bone. Trotters were nothing but thick joints and hard marrow. They didn't give easily. After more than an hour, he had ruined three knives in a row. Blisters swelled on his palms, then split, and even so he had only...