Chapter 48
Drogen stood towering over the man, his presence suffocating, his gaze as cold as death itself. The man lay sprawled on the floor, trembling, his eyes darting between Drogen's face and the tips of his boots as though looking for any escape.
"Crushed to bits, you say?" Drogen's voice was low, almost playful, yet each word was like the blade of a knife, cutting into the man's sanity.
The man's lips quivered as he dared to speak. "W-what did you do to them?" His voice cracked, defiance barely masking his fear.
"Oh," Drogen replied with a sinister smirk, crouching to meet the man at eye level. "You mean those fools? Let's just say they're probably on their way to the afterlife."
He leaned in closer, his breath cold against the man's ear. "But you… you're lucky. You get to live. For now."
The man jerked back, his face twisting into a mixture of horror and disbelief. "Who do you think you are?" he spat, though his voice wavered, betraying his fear.
Drogen's grin widened, cruel and mocking, as he straightened up. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic light. "I'm the man deciding whether you leave this room alive or in pieces." His tone dropped, sharp as a dagger. "Do you want to test me?"
The man's breath hitched, his defiance crumbling like dry leaves. Drogen's cold stare bore into him, a silent promise of pain.
"Now, little boy," Drogen began, his voice dripping with disdain, "I have a task for you. A simple one, really."
The man's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead.
"I want you," Drogen continued, pacing slowly around him like a predator circling its prey, "to capture Edward. Bring him to me. Alive. And here's the fun part…" Drogen paused, crouching again, his face inches from the man's. "You and your little friends are going to torture him. Slowly. Painfully. In ways that make him wish he'd never crawled into this world."
The man's eyes widened in horror. "T-that's impossible!" he stammered. "Edward… he's got bodyguards, dozens of them. He's a powerful man. I can't—"
"You can," Drogen interrupted, his voice razor-sharp. "And you will. Because if you don't…" He reached out, grabbing the man's collar and yanking him closer, his strength almost choking the air from the man's lungs. "I'll make what I did to your friends look like mercy."
The man's entire body trembled. He could feel the searing cold radiating from Drogen, as though he was standing before the gates of hell itself.
"And here's the catch," Drogen added, his grin returning, crueler than before. "You'll torture Edward in every imaginable way, but you will not kill him. That's my privilege. Do you understand me?"
The man nodded frantically, his voice too choked with terror to speak.
"Good." Drogen released him, letting him slump back onto the floor. "Because if you fail, I'll hunt you down, rip you apart limb by limb, and feed your flesh to the burning flames of hell. Slowly, while making sure you're still alive to feel every bit of pain."
The man gasped for air, his mind racing with images of what Drogen had just promised.
Drogen leaned closer one last time, his voice a chilling whisper. "Run along now. Time is ticking, and Edward's suffering won't start itself."
The man scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward the door as though the very air around Drogen was suffocating him.
As the man fled, Drogen chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with malice. He didn't need to lift a finger against Edward yet. Watching his own men turn on him would be far more satisfying. And when Edward thought the nightmare was over, that's when Drogen would strike.
---
As soon as the man disappeared from Drogen's view, his fearful expression twisted into a smug, mocking grin. His hurried steps slowed, and a figure emerged from the shadows.
"What do you think, is he the one?" The person from the shadows asked
"Ohh, I checked, but I still haven't confirmed, the guy's pretty daring. He's got guts, but I bet he's all talk"
"Then what should I do?" The cloaked figure asked
"He's all yours," the man said, his voice cold and indifferent. "Don't overdo it. Push his powers to the limits, he might seem intimidating but he's nothing to fear." The man said and the figure bowed in response, With that, he vanished into the darkness.
The cloaked figure, silent and menacing, approached Drogen without a sound.
The figure whispered some incantations, then bit their finger to draw blood and rubbed the blood over their forehead, with a satisfying grin, walks into the office.
Drogen who focused on searching through the office for any evidence that might be related to Edward, was caught completely off guard. The first hit came out of nowhere—an explosion of force that sent him crashing into the wall with bone-shaking impact.
What the hell? Drogen's mind raced. He hadn't sensed anything. This wasn't a grim reaper, he was able to sense grim reapers minutes before they appeared, he might have been a little distracted but his senses were still active.
He quickly gathered himself, his body already preparing for another attack. His senses were now on high alert, and he waited for the next strike. The room was eerily silent.
"Who are you?" Drogen growled, his voice cutting through the stillness. "Show yourself!"
Suddenly, a blur of movement—a punch that came at him like a flash of lightning. Drogen's reflexes kicked in. He caught the attacker's fist in mid-air, his grip unyielding.
"Nice camouflage," Drogen said with a dark grin, "but it's not enough to fool me."
Without a second thought, he drove his knee into the attacker's stomach, sending them flying back with brutal force. The figure slammed against the wall, and the hood fell back, the mask shattering into pieces.
Drogen took a step forward, ready to finish it. But as the attacker's face came into full view, his blood ran cold.
"No… It can't be." His voice dropped, his gaze narrowing.
"Natasha?!"