As he took each step out of the villa, his body suddenly swayed and he coughed, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Baron Lawrence didn't pause and quickly walked to the car, supporting himself on the car door, he called the driver, "Come pick me up at the vacation villa, quickly."
Soon, the driver arrived.
Seeing Baron's injured state, the driver was shocked and hurried to help him, "My Lord, what has happened? How did you get injured so badly? I must take you to the hospital."
The most painful part of being whipped wasn't enduring the lashings, it was afterward when the wounds tore open, each second was a bone-eating torment.
Not to mention that he didn't just have whip wounds but also numerous other injuries, large and small, overlapping each other.
His face was covered in cold sweat, the beads of sweat trickling down his contours. He didn't go to the hospital with the driver and asked instead, "What time is it now?"
What did the lord need the time for?
