Hagan Marsh?
Colton Leopold's heart jolted. He wanted to open the concealed weapon box, but his body was utterly devoid of strength.
He couldn't even speak, let alone call for help.
He's finished.
Overturned in the gutter.
Probably going to get beaten until his guts spill.
"Oh, I almost forgot—you three can't talk right now." Hagan Marsh's eyes flashed with malice, and the blade in his hand slowly slid across Colton Leopold's arm.
Blood seeped out, drop by drop.
The three men wore expressions of terror, wanting either to beg for mercy or discuss terms, but no sound could come out of their mouths.
"And you three pigs think you can outsmart me?" Devlin pulled out another cigarette from his pocket and clamped it between his teeth. "Idiots."
Then he spoke again.
He took out his phone and stepped back a few paces.
After repeatedly adjusting the angle, Devlin finally captured a satisfactory photo.
