Chapter 97 Not A Fool

• One blow after another, the man tied to a chair was being punched repeatedly by Demian himself. Blood gushed from the enemy's mouth without stopping, while one of his eyes remained closed. With his head down and more eager to die than to live, the man was on the verge of losing consciousness.
• "I can do this all day, I have no problem," Demian retorted, wiping his hand with a metal fist. "It would be easier if you told me who you're working for. If you can see your friends, you can't say much."
• Morgan turned around, dropping the blood-soaked handkerchief to the floor, and glanced at his son, who was watching intently and shaking his head. Both knew perfectly well that this man was not going to say a word.