The man looked to be in his early thirties. His face was flushed, and the skin exposed beyond his sleeves had a strange, reddish glow.
His eyes were bloodshot as he struggled frantically, "Let go of me! Let go of me!"
The man in black gripped him tightly, kicking him sharply in the back of his knee.
With a THUD, the man's knees slammed heavily onto the ground.
The excruciating pain brought back a sliver of his rationality.
He looked up, and his entire body trembled at the sight of the handsome and dignified Thomas Shannon seated on the sofa.
His muscles began to spasm with fear. Feigning terror, he kowtowed repeatedly. "Young Master Shannon, spare me! Please, spare my worthless life!"
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. His head struck the hard floor with sickening force, each impact deliberate.
Soon, the floor was stained with blood, and a gash was torn open on the man's forehead.
Bright red blood trickled down his face.
Sophie couldn't figure it out, so she continued to watch.
