Predator

35

Awaiting him were mercenaries who had been waiting at the factory gate for some time.

Liam got out of the car with her in his arms, his tone cold and hard: "Move."

They didn't budge. Behind the dense group, footsteps rang out—one soft, one loud.

Amidst it was the screech of metal scraping the ground.

The mercenaries made way—

"Liam, didn't you agree to take your punishment when you returned?"

Those pale blue eyes washed away the scent of blood, once again cloaked in the guise of a refined and elegant superior.

Liam held the girl tighter, his expression calm: "I haven't forgotten."

"Let me take her back."

"Let me do it." The man said directly as he brushed past him: "If I can't even keep my own person safe, I don't deserve to be your sharpest blade."

His broad, powerful back completely shielded Amelia, gradually blending into the darkening night.

"Have you decided what to use? I'll have them prepare."

The demon behind him spread its wings, extending a crimson tongue to lick its sharp teeth, eagerly anticipating the upcoming feast.

"No need." Liam paused: "Anything will do."

Amelia had a dream.

In it, she was a bird trapped in a cage, fluttering her wings in vain. Her captor was not a human but an eagle several times her size.

It tore at her wings, its sharp beak pecking at her head.

Its terrifying claws toyed with her small body, making her cry out in alarm. From the eagle's beak came a deep laugh: "Amelia?"

"When you have the strength to kill me, I'll let you go."

The girl woke up with a start, her wet hair sticking to her neck, her body covered in sweat.

The bloodstained clothes on her body had been changed, and the room was empty.

Amelia's mind raced—

She looked again at the window.

It was a mouth holding a tempting candy, luring her to freedom.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the window, a dim light flickered in the factory's corner.

Mike shrank to the corner of the cage warily, his trunk stiff, ready for battle.

Leaning against the cage was a man covered in blood. Mike recognized the wounds on this man's body, all too familiar, inflicted by elephant hooks and whips... countless methods once used on elephants, now turned on a human.

Liam gritted his teeth, tending to his wounds, blood splattering onto Mike's cage, yet he still found the energy to joke with him: "I'm hurt this badly, and you're still afraid of me?"

Such little courage, just like Amelia.