The only sounds in the air were "THUD! THUD!"
The righteous man, his limbs now broken, let the clubs rain down on him without a sound, not even struggling.
"Uungh…"
The child's mother clamped a hand over her mouth, terrified of attracting the attention of those fiends.
She wanted to close her eyes, to not look, but she couldn't tear her gaze away.
As for the father, he was pressing his forehead hard against the dirt floor.
His ten fingers clawed madly at the ground, carving ten bloody furrows into the earth.
He was filled with hatred.
He hated these animals, but he hated himself even more—for being able to do nothing but grovel here like a dog, pathetically clinging to life!
That was… that was their benefactor, the man who had saved his son from a brutal fate!
The little boy just stood there in a daze, his face spattered with a few drops of someone's blood.
His innocent eyes now reflected the image of the figure being beaten again and again with iron rods.
