Victor's eyes widened, a mix of shock and disgust crossing his face. "What? Are you certain about this, Anthony?"
Anthony nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so, sir. We've cross-verified the information from multiple sources. It appears to be a well-kept secret within certain circles of the racing world."
Victor began to pace the room, his mind racing. "Tell me everything, Anthony. Leave nothing out."
Anthony pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. "According to our information, the Society has been operating this...
enterprise for several years now. They target horses that are no longer fit for racing, either due to age or injury. Instead of retiring these animals or providing them with proper care, they're... processing them, for lack of a better term."
Victor's face darkened with each word. "Processing them? For what purpose?"
