Chapitre 47: Messed Up

Arfin's tortured screams echoed through the room, his desperate gasps for air becoming faint as darkness enveloped him. The vice-like grip around his neck loosened, releasing him from the brink of death. As his vision blurred, he caught glimpses of horrified onlookers, their eyes widening as they witnessed the macabre scene unfold. A chilling silence settled in the air, broken only by the gurgling sound of foam escaping Arfin's contorted mouth.

"Tch!" the middle-aged man snarled, his gaze darting around the room, a mixture of triumph and malice dancing in his eyes. "Clean up the mess!" He reclaimed his seat, his lips moving in an incantation that materialized a black glove from the depths of his shadow. With meticulous precision, he used the glove to wipe away any traces of the gruesome act, his eyes and mouth now pristine. "Where the fuck are you!"