บท 74: 068: Bandaging the Wound, Tender Moments (Part Four)_1

Wyatt Wright said, "Hold out your hand."

His face showed no joy or anger, remaining eerily calm, but this excess of calmness was enough to send chills down one's spine.

It was a cold day, and the man felt a shiver run down his spine as if a cold air was seeping into his bones from all over his body, bringing with it a sense of fear and a desire to survive.

"I didn't mean it, I was drunk."

The man's lips trembled as he stammered his apology, but before he could finish, those frightening eyes had already shifted their gaze.

Wyatt Wright was looking at the man's hands.

In that instant, the man's hairs stood on end. Ignoring the pain, he tried to scramble up, but just as he straightened his lower back, it was pinned down by the tip of an umbrella.

Wyatt Wright repeated, "Hold out your hand."

He didn't utter a single harsh word.