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154 I Told You, I Don't Like Your Eyes

Harrison's POV

"Give up those thoughts, Donald, if you still want to keep this miserable life of yours."

I sneered, then signaled to Rick, who had been silent beside me. He quickly walked towards Donald, who was kneeling on the ground, holding a dark glass bottle cautiously.

"Peter's gift to you is confinement, not mine. My gift, here—"

Donald's gaze was quickly drawn to the glass bottle in Rick's hand by my words. Fear filled his eyes, and his voice trembled again, "W-what is this?! What do you want to do?!"

"This is a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid."

My voice was calm, like the serene lake outside the window, but each word I uttered was as terrifying as Satan emerging from hell.

"I want you to pick up this bottle of sulfuric acid, Donald Rufus, then uncover its lid and pour the liquid onto your eyes."

"Are you insane?!" Donald staggered backward until his body was pressed against the wall. "You want me to commit suicide? I tell you, that's impossible!"