"Whimper——"
Each finger linked to his heart, Cliff twisted and writhed from the debilitating pain, much like a fish on dry land, on the brink of asphyxiation.
Spattering blood splashed onto the clothes of the black-clothed men surrounding him. But they remained motionless, disregarding the drops of blood on their faces, as if they had grown accustomed to such gruesome scenes.
Only when Cliff managed to barely retain his breath did the lead black-clothed man finally remove the rag from his mouth and asked again:
"Mr. Cliff, are you ready to cooperate now?"
Cliff looked at his severed wound, from which blood was flowing out, uncontrolled like a gushing spring. Soon, a small "puddle" formed on the ground.
He pleaded weakly, "Please, just kill me with a single blow!"
The black-clothed man picked up the severed ring finger from the ground, holding it in his palm before Cliff, sighed seemingly out of sympathy, and asked:
