The next moment, the infantryman realized he was sitting in his own urine.
The grip of that large hand was astonishing; no matter how hard he struggled, it was to no avail.
Soon he ran out of strength, and his face crawled with boundless and endless fear.
But that hand slowly loosened its grip.
Only then did the infantryman finally see clearly that the owner of the hand was a black-clothed masked figure.
The black-clothed masked figure raised his hand, a finger pressing against the infantryman's forehead, the sharp nail piercing the skin and flesh, causing blood to flow out ceaselessly.
The black-clothed masked figure said, "If I use a little force, your skull will shatter, and you will surely die."
The infantryman said in terror, "Spare me, Hero, I am an infantryman from the County Government. If you kill me, the sin would be great."
The black-clothed masked figure chuckled coldly, "I've already killed one, what difference does it make to kill another?"