William paused, his grip on the phone tightening slightly.Upon hearing what the person just said, he realized that, truly, this was not the same voice.This was not the same voice as the person who had called him earlier.This voice was different, calmer, and more genuine."So who is this?" William asked cautiously, his tone still guarded.There was a brief pause, and then the person on the other end of the call spoke again, their voice hurried but respectful."Well," the voice said, "I am actually a bartender, and I work at a bar not far away from the West Bank. And there is this customer of ours, and before she passed out, she said her name is Lydia. And she is drunk. Like very, very drunk. To the point that she passed out. And before she passed out, I told her that she cannot drive and she cannot actually go anywhere. And this place is very, very dangerous. Like very, very dangerous. People—thugs, hoodlums—can literally violate her, assault her in this place if care is not taken.

William stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, and he continued speaking, his voice steady and cold, each word deliberate and measured."It was Benjamin that put you guys up to this, right?" he said, his gaze moving slowly across the faces of the men surrounding him. "Paid you to frame me up. To set me up. Is that not true?"At that moment in time, hearing what William just said, the boss among them did not say anything immediately.He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable, his eyes calculating.Because yes, that was exactly what was going to play out.That was precisely the plan.The silence stretched out for a moment, heavy and tense, and then, slowly, the boss's lips curled into a cold, mocking smile."Well," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, almost conversational, "should I actually lie? I am not going to tell lies. Because regardless, you are not going to get away from this. Regardless of anything that happens, you are not going

The waiter the man who had called William, who had lured him to this place with lies and false concern, who had helped orchestrate this entire trap stood frozen near the far wall, his entire body trembling violently with terror. His face had gone deathly pale, his eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at the scene of devastation before him, his mind struggling desperately to process what he had just witnessed. His legs felt like jelly, barely able to support his weight, and his hands shook so badly that he had to clench them into fists to try to stop the trembling.William turned slowly, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto the waiter with laser-like focus, and then he began to walk toward him with slow, deliberate steps. Each footfall was calm and measured, unhurried but utterly relentless, like the approach of an executioner walking toward the gallows. The waiter felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the distance between th

Benjamin's jaw dropped, his entire body going rigid as shock and disbelief washed over him like a wave of ice-cold water. He stared at the phone in his hand as if it had suddenly transformed into a venomous snake, his mind struggling desperately to process what he had just heard. That was definitely, that was certainly William's voice he would recognize it anywhere, that calm, controlled tone that somehow managed to be more threatening than any shouted threat could ever be."How the hell did he survive? What the hell is going on?" Benjamin muttered to himself, his voice rising in pitch as panic began to creep in around the edges of his thoughts. He began pacing back and forth across his living room, his movements agitated and jerky, his mind racing through possibilities and scenarios. "Could it be that those good-for-nothing bastards actually didn't do the job properly? What the hell is going on? William is supposed to be dead, or at the very least, he's supposed to be in custody wi

At that moment in time, Benjamin's eyes widened in shock and confusion as he finally registered who was standing in front of him, and he uttered with a shaking, trembling voice as the pain from the stab wound continued to radiate through his chest in burning, agonizing waves that made it nearly impossible to breathe properly. "Who the hell are you? Who sent you?" he managed to gasp out, his words barely more than a whisper as blood began to pool in his mouth.But the person standing before him didn't say anything at all, didn't offer any explanation or justification or even acknowledgment of the question. Instead, with cold, mechanical precision, the attacker simply grabbed the handle of the knife that was still buried deep in Benjamin's chest and slowly, deliberately drew it out. The sensation of the blade sliding back through flesh and muscle was indescribable, a fresh wave of agony that made Benjamin's entire body convulse involuntarily. Immediately, he coughed violently, and blo