"Heh." A chuckle escaped Baron Lawrence's lips, enigmatic and unclear.
The man's heart inexplicably froze, and the boisterous laughter on his face came to an abrupt stop as he stared at him nervously.
Baron Lawrence's eagle eyes were cold and ruthless, he glanced at the man, then without looking at anyone beside him gave a command, "Break one of his fingers!"
"..."
What does that mean?
Before the man could react, the bodyguards on either side had already grabbed his hand, one of them pressed his left pinky finger onto the coffee table, and without blinking, suddenly grabbed an ashtray from beside and smashed it down!
"Ah!" a miserable scream escaped him.
The executioner bodyguard touched his fractured finger expressionlessly and calmly reported to the man on the sofa, "Lord, 012 has completed the task!"
