Willard took his seat slowly, for a player who had passed through the labyrinth, this degree of injury was minor.
He picked up the napkin on the table, neatly folded it, and gently pressed it on the wound.
A blood rose seemed to burst forth on his chest.
The dining table was silent.
Everyone was watching him.
From being attacked, stabbed in the chest, to Carl being assaulted, the bald assailant was taken away... throughout all the incidents, Willard's emotion showed no change whatsoever.
He picked up his own knife and fork again, and began to savour the pork chops on his plate.
With a bloody taste in the meat juice, he ate it bite by bite, swallowing it elegantly and calmly.
It was as if it tasted delicious.
Zhu Shu's eyebrows tightened, wanting to throw up.
However, Bai Youwei noted that Robert's hands, the hands clutching his knife and fork, were trembling slightly.
