Delier's barely noticeable Adam's apple made a clear movement as he gulped dryly, torn between his inner struggle.
To speak or not to speak—that was the question.
If he spoke, who knew what that brute Julian would do to him? He certainly didn't want any marks on his flawless face, nor did he want to endure the beatings that Julian seemed so fond of dishing out every few days.
But if he stayed silent... the cold metal barrel pressed against his chin made it difficult to breathe. This was a life-or-death situation!
Faced with the choice between a beating and his life, Delier, as always, chose self-preservation without hesitation.
He whispered a name—Gador!
Pronto's eyes lit up instantly. He quickly holstered his gun, and the friendly smile returned to his face. Cheerfully, he started to fix Delier's clothes, though Delier recoiled in fear.
