The door to the third underground floor opened, and a heavy smell of blood wafted out. Caleb Mamet walked in with long strides.
Still wearing his light-colored suit, the elegant and prestigious gentleman appeared in the dark and damp underground prison. He looked indifferently at the man chained by his hands and feet, "I didn't expect Boyd Drew's subordinate to be so tough."
The man lay on the ground, his body covered in blood, laughing hysterically, "Just kill me! There's no way I'm going to tell you a thing! You vicious bastard, you'll end up in hell sooner or later!"
Caleb snorted. He never bothered to pretend in front of outsiders, only acting gentle in front of Mrs. Mamet. Had his recent displays of gentleness made others forget his once ruthless methods?
He lazily sat down on a chair, his eyes cold as he stared at the man. His thin lips parted slightly, "You don't actually think you're important to me, do you? So important that I wouldn't kill you?"
