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The sudden change caused Brother Jie's gentle touch to come to an abrupt halt. His hand suddenly tightened, grabbing Anthon's chubby face like an eagle's claw, his fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh, holding on tightly. In that moment, Brother Jie's expression turned cold and chilling; the smile vanished, replaced by a look of ruthless indifference.
Anthon felt the pressure on his cheek, his breaths becoming rapid. His body turned limp under Brother Jie's control, as if all his strength had been drained away. Amidst the oppression and unease, Anthon struggled to speak, confusion and terror evident in his voice: “Brother Jie... what are you doing?” His tone was filled with obvious panic and helplessness.
However, Brother Jie ignored Anthon's question, moving his body to the rhythm of the jazz music flowing through the air. His movements seemed involuntary yet revealed a twisted enjoyment, as if he found some perverse pleasure in this display of control and power. Brother Jie’s face was expressionless, but the glimmer in his eyes betrayed his satisfaction with it all; Anthon’s protests and pain seemed only to heighten the thrill of this game.
Feeling the immense pressure from Brother Jie's fingers, Anthon thought his cheek might twist under the fierce grip, pain spreading across his face like fire. His breathing grew even more frantic, his heart racing wildly, each beat filled with fear and anxiety. Although he wanted to break free, Brother Jie's strength left him no room for resistance, as if he were trapped in an inescapable snare.
Before Brother Jie’s merciless demeanor, Anthon felt small and helpless. He couldn't help but wonder if he could escape this terror. Yet Brother Jie’s cold indifference only deepened his fear because he understood he had fallen into a ruthless grip, and the unpredictable future ahead filled him with dread.
Brother Jie’s voice slowly spread through the cramped space, carrying a deep and composed rhythm as he said: “Anthon... you are the best man I’ve seen in these past few months... you remind me of my experiences back when I was mixed up in the underworld...” His words carried a hint of nostalgic sentiment, as if Anthon were not just a current opponent but also a projection of some past memory.
As Brother Jie leaned closer to Anthon, a strange excitement and nostalgia flickered in his gaze. He continued softly: “Do you know what I love to watch most?” As he spoke, his face nearly brushed against Anthon’s cheek; warm breath escaped from his mouth, waves of heat crashing against Anthon’s face, bringing a series of stimulating sensations.
Filled with fear, Anthon felt uneasy about Brother Jie’s possessive actions. However, amidst this close proximity and warmth, his body involuntarily responded with a hint of stimulation and excitement—a feeling that made him feel ashamed as if his reaction betrayed his inner panic. This complex mix of emotions made Anthon’s expression even more intricate; he was not only a passive victim but also entangled in emotions, acutely aware that his reactions seemed particularly inappropriate in such a situation.
The words of Brother Jie echoed in Anthon’s ears as if carrying some mysterious power that touched his soul. He found himself involuntarily pondering the relationship between himself and Brother Jie, feeling an inexplicable resonance with what was being said. Perhaps within this man, he saw a shadow of his past self—the one who once battled in the underworld—filled with ambition and determination. This resonance created a peculiar connection for Anthon, making him want to learn more and delve deeper into the memories that Brother Jie spoke of.
Yet this curiosity was suppressed by an overwhelming fear; Anthon clearly understood that he had fallen deep into the trap woven by Brother Jie. He dared not explore further for fear of being mercilessly consumed. Thus, he struggled to suppress his inner emotions, trying to remain calm; yet before Brother Jie, he felt small and insignificant—like a little creature trapped in a snare destined to become prey.
With a slow and steady voice, Brother Jie spoke with an air of cold profundity as if savoring a cruel aesthetic that only he could comprehend. He began to explain calmly yet with an unsettling excitement: “I love watching those who are unable to repay their debts being pushed to their limits. In the end, they can only leap off from high places to escape the shackles of this world.”
His face bore almost no expression, but there was a flicker of twisted light in his eyes as if such scenes brought him profound satisfaction. Continuing on, Brother Jie spoke with an unusual clarity: “I have seen it several times now. I find that I enjoy watching people fall from great heights; at that moment they resemble falling tissue paper—bodies trembling in mid-air, helpless and desperate.”
This description not only reveals Brother Jie's inner world but also discloses his profound obsession with power and control. Each word seems to recreate the moments of panic and helplessness, yet in Brother Jie's eyes, such scenes have become a picture he enjoys viewing.
Anthon listened to these words, his inner fear and concern continuously escalating, feeling increasingly clear and bewildered by Brother Jie's cold-blooded true nature. He tried to understand the motivations and psychology behind Brother Jie, but he could not fathom how a person could derive satisfaction from the suffering of others.
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