Song Heping's unexpected words made Blake feel a chill.
Looking at the earnest expression on the mercenary leader across from him, he suddenly realized that this guy would really do it.
Just now, Joseph and the others used torture on him, but it was nothing.
After all, resistance training isn't for nothing.
Death?
Not afraid!
Pain?
Can endure!
But dying like an abandoned wild dog in the desert, or being shot by "one's own" and cleared away like trash.
That won't do!
Blake's breathing became heavy, sweat dripped down his brow.
His face, usually full of arrogance, now seemed struck by a hard punch, muscles uncontrollably twitching.
"Desert..." he murmured, his voice dry like sandpaper scratching: "I can't...can't die like that."
Song Heping sat across from him, hands folded across his chest.
He didn't rush, nor did he show any smugness of a victor.
On the contrary, his eyes remained calm like water, as if he had foreseen this outcome.
