"How about we make a deal?"
Kruger halted in his steps, gaze as piercingly cold as icy blades.
Silence hung as the two men studied each other.
Not a wind brushed by the hem of their trousers, the stillness suffocating.
The wound left behind after Thanh Van had bit off Kruger's ear had crusted over in a jagged mess. Bits and pieces of skin hung where his earlobe had once been. The blood stained the white cotton shirt, a dark crimson batch over his right shoulder extending right down to his waist.
Kruger seemed to have aged by a decade. Deep, unforgiving lines edged between his brows.
Thanh Van felt almost regretful for being so cruel - almost. He did get choked.
When Kruger didn't answer his proposal or even question it, Thanh Van said,
