Instead of leaving immediately, Zachary reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief.
With calm, unhurried movements, he wiped the blood from his hands and fingers as though cleaning away ordinary dust. His breathing had already returned to normal, and his face showed no sign of satisfaction or regret.
After several moments, he looked toward Brad.
"Take them," he said calmly. "Throw them into the grizzly bear enclosure. Let them be the bear's lunch."
His voice remained even, almost casual, but the words were enough to drain every trace of color from the gangsters' faces.
One of them suddenly crawled forward as far as his bound hands allowed.
"S-Sir... please..." he begged, trembling uncontrollably. "Spare me. I'll tell you who hired us."
Zachary slowly turned to look at him. His expression remained cold. "I don't need information from you," he replied. "I already know who sent you."
The gangster froze.
