"Where did you sell her?" Alvin Morgan could no longer control his emotions. He yanked the fisherman off the ground and roared.
The fisherman stammered, "I-I sold her to a middleman..."
"What's his name?"
He shook his head. "I really don't know."
Alvin Morgan clenched his fist and slammed it violently onto the table.
"Black, the middlemen in Southeland are basically nomads. They're hard to investigate..."
Alvin Morgan didn't look at his subordinate. He suddenly strode in front of the fisherman, grabbed his shoulders with both hands, and stared at him with bloodshot eyes. "What did he look like? Which way did he go? Think hard and try to remember..."
Beta and Benjamin Morgan felt terrible. For the first time, they saw an emotion they had never witnessed in their master's eyes: pleading.
But the fisherman's next words extinguished the last glimmer of light in his eyes.
