Only the hostage seemed somewhat ungrateful at the moment, sitting on the ground with his hands tied behind his back with rope, his movements extremely clumsy, but he still furiously twisted his body, inching backward.
"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," Clo maintained the standard hospitality industry smile, revealing exactly eight teeth, not one more, not one less, but the corners of his mouth stretched near his cheeks were indeed frightening.
Moreover, when that smiling face almost pressed against one's own, there weren't many people who wouldn't be scared, would there?
As if he had found an amusing toy, Clo dropped the mop and squatted down. He removed the rag stuffed in the hostage's mouth and then placed his hands on the hostage's shoulders, straightening him, so the hostage faced him directly.
The hostage was a middle-aged man with a potbelly who had fallen into extreme panic, his words unclear, "Don't…don't hurt me…I'll give you anything you want, I'm very rich."
