"Sigh, why can't you answer honestly and save us both time? If you have demands, say so. We're all adults here. There's no need for these childish games and play to be tough, right?" Myne helplessly tossed aside the iron rod in his hand, breathing heavily. Before him lay an almost beaten-to-death old man, his face especially bruised and deformed beyond recognition. Even if his mother saw him now, there was no way she could recognize him.
The old man's limbs were broken beyond repair; he couldn't even move his fingers except for his right arm, which was still in somewhat decent condition, thanks to his painstaking efforts. Nearly half of his bones were broken, and many wounds were gushing blood, contributing heavily to the pool beneath him.
