Chapter 265: The Game (2)

"Creak…" The bamboo hut door swung open. Inside, Benson Santee sat on the floor, bound tight with rope. His whole body was a mess of wounds, his face drained of color. His hands were tied behind his back, loose strands of hair hanging at his temples. Even like this, he carried a peculiar air, the kind a man wore after crawling out of a battlefield. His gaze looked hollow. Yet the lingering stench of slaughter clung to him, sharp enough to bite. The moment Andy Fitzharris saw him, murderous...