"Mr. King, I have something I'd like to discuss with you."
An hour after being beaten.
Dominic Pendleton sat on the large hotel bed, summoning his most reliable subordinate to drag away the bodies of the two bodyguards who were once arranged by Bright King to watch over him.
Having been in the business for years, he had his own loyal followers.
But due to Bright King's informants, they had always remained in the shadows.
Today, they finally proved useful.
He held his phone, speaking with Bright King.
Dominic Pendleton had no choice.
If he didn't cough up the money, he'd die.
If he did, he'd die all the same.
The Royal Court was a beast that devoured people without spitting out their bones!
Rather than being slaughtered helplessly, he might as well take a few with him.
Having seen a youngster jump from the nineteenth floor, he felt he could take a gamble.
What if he succeeded?
Even failing wouldn't be a loss.
To die was to die; he'd fight with his last breath!
