The guy panicked and swung the knife wildly, but before he even realized what happened, a sharp jolt hit his wrist and the blade flew out of his hand.
Then, he froze.
A cold chill crept up his spine.
The knife was now at his throat.
Thud!
The thug's knees buckled and he collapsed. His face turned ghost-white as he begged, "Please, man... I won't do it again. You can have my wife..."
"I'm asking one last time. Who sent you?"
Merritt grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up. The knife was already pressing into his neck, slicing just enough to draw blood.
"If I don't get the answer I want... you won't be able to talk ever again."
The burly man's last shred of mental defense crumbled in the face of death.
When he saw the emotionless eyes of his opponent, he realized what kind of person he had provoked.
Cold-blooded!
Ruthless!
Decisive!
This kind of person wasn't like normal people at all. Even most underworld figures couldn't give off this kind of aura.
He was sure that if he didn't spill the truth, the other guy would really slit his throat without a second thought. If he had known it would turn out like this, he never would've taken the job!
"It's our boss… it has nothing to do with me…" A strong smell of urine filled the air as the man's pants became soaked. His voice trembled.
"Who's your boss? Do I know him?" Merritt asked coldly.
"No… Mr. Evan asked our boss for help…"
"Evan?"
"Yes…"
"Where is he?"
"In the car outside the motel…"
"Good."
Merritt casually tossed the now limp and terrified man to the ground, then turned and left the room, heading downstairs.
Was he angry?
No!
He was happy.
Very, very happy!
Just a few moments ago, three different colored streams of energy had flowed from the four men and one woman into the Heavenly Desire Pearl in his mind.
When he knocked down the first man, a stream of anger appeared. As the others were taken down one after another, streams of fear and sadness followed.
The fear, especially, was a lot, it filled almost a quarter of that section in the Heavenly Desire Pearl.
A Mercedes R-Class was parked by the roadside in front of the motel.
Evan sat in the driver's seat.
Compared to the million-dollar Brabus luxury car, this one, worth just tens of thousands, wasn't anything special.
Unfortunately, the luxury car was in the shop.
The repair costs didn't matter much, he didn't even mind paying out of pocket.
What mattered most was getting Yasmine back. The tens of thousands in repair fees were nothing.
The real problem was…
Some random guy had suddenly shown up and ruined everything.
Not only did Evan have to pay the repair fees himself, but he also failed to get Yasmine back, ended up giving her a thousand dollars as compensation, and completely embarrassed himself in public.
How could he just let that go?
He was a rich man.
And being rich made a lot of things easier.
For example, it didn't take long before he found out that the guy who ruined his plan was staying in a cheap motel nearby.
He wanted revenge!
In Bien City, a place full of rich and powerful people, there were definitely people stronger than him, people he didn't dare offend.
Sometimes, even when he got screwed over, he had no choice but to swallow his pride.
But someone staying in a cheap motel?
There was no way he was letting that slide!
He knew someone in the underworld, and those four men and one woman were people he had hired.
The setup was to make it look like a scam, so if things got messy, he wouldn't be implicated. After all, he had a reputation as a respectable businessman.
That punk should be beaten half to death by now, right?
Serves him right!
Messing with the wrong person meant facing the consequences. That was the iron rule!
Suddenly, as Evan sat in the car, contentedly smoking a premium cigar, fantasizing about the guy begging for mercy...
"What the...?" Evan nearly had a heart attack. He saw a handsome young man step out of the small motel about thirty feet away, someone he recognized.
What the heck is going on?
The reason didn't matter anymore. He knew that if this guy was out, it meant the person he was looking for was down, and Evan himself was exposed.
Evan quickly started his car to get away, not just because he feared getting beaten up, but because if this got out, his reputation as a successful businessman would be ruined.
The car had decent performance and started up quickly.
Suddenly!
Merritt, who had just walked out of the motel, picked up speed dramatically, sprinting like a cheetah.
Compared to Merritt, the car's initial acceleration was limited.
The distance from the motel entrance to the parked car was only about thirty feet.
Merritt closed the gap swiftly, catching up to the accelerating car.
Bang!
The passenger-side window shattered with a powerful punch, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Luckily, Merritt was on the passenger side.
If that punch had hit the driver's side, the flying glass could have seriously injured Evan.
Thud!
After smashing the glass, Merritt's fist landed on the passenger seat's backrest. Given the limited reach, Merritt couldn't hit Evan directly from the passenger side.
Merritt stepped back.
Coldly, he watched as the Mercedes sedan swerved away erratically, almost like it was drunk. He knew Evan was terrified.
Because once again, he felt that surge of emotion, fear.
Evan was genuinely scared out of his wits.
The Mercedes R-Class is known for its quality, and even a toe could tell you that the glass is strong. Yet, this maniac had shattered it with a single punch.
He was like a beast from ancient times!
But it wasn't just that. What really terrified Evan was what happened next.
After shattering the glass, Merritt's fist had slammed into the back of the passenger seat. Evan saw, with his own eyes, a switchblade buried up to the hilt in the seatback!
Just a little more!
Just a tiny bit more!
Evan broke out in a cold sweat.
Thank goodness the driver's seat in imported cars is on the left; otherwise, that switchblade would've pierced his neck or heart!
Who the hell is this maniac?
Fear!
Lingering dread!
After a while, Evan's hands finally stopped shaking. His eyes glinted with a nearly tangible malice. He would not let this go!
When Merritt returned, the four male thugs and one female thug from earlier had vanished.
Instead, there was a delivery guy holding a takeout box, standing in a daze outside the open door.
The room's door was ajar, and there were two bloodstains on the floor.
"How much?" Merritt asked as he walked over.
"Ten… ten bucks…" The delivery guy's lips trembled.
"Keep the change," Merritt said, handing over a twenty-dollar bill. He walked into the house and casually shut the door.
Just as he was about to eat, he frowned: a wisp of crimson mist drifted in, entering the Heaven's Desire Pearl in his mind.
Crimson represented… hatred!