Hugo might act indifferent toward his students, but Finley knew better—he was extremely protective of them. If Taylor died because of them, the Tremo family would be making an enemy out of Hugo. That was the last thing Finley wanted. He had plans to work his way into Hugo’s circle one day, using it as leverage to gain an advantage. But Solivair barely spared Taylor a glance, his face completely emotionless. He spoke in a chilling tone. "It’s just a worthless life. If he dies, so what?" Even Finley was shocked by Solivair’s words. Then, without warning, Solivair clapped his hands. At his signal, two men, beaten and covered in blood, were dragged in and dumped unceremoniously onto the ground. They hit the floor with a painful thud, but instead of reacting to the impact, they scrambled up in desperation. Both men threw themselves at Solivair’s legs, gripping onto his pant leg like their lives depended on it. "Mr. Solivair! We didn’t mean to mess up Mr. Finley’s plan! Please have mercy! Please spare us!" They knelt before him, groveling like desperate dogs, their heads banging against the floor as they begged for their lives. Arthur’s eyes narrowed as recognition struck him. The cop, Dean and Finley’s sidekick, Kent. Finley’s eyes widened in shock as he finally recognized them. "Kent? Dean? What the heck are you doing here?" Dean and Kent were just regular men. What was happening now was kidnapping—there was no way Finley would have involved them. Dean was a cop, for god’s sake. After Arthur had thrown him aside, Finley’s bodyguards had quickly patched up his leg wounds with a rough bandage. The pain was still intense, but at least the bleeding had stopped. At the sound of his voice, both men suddenly froze. Then, as if in sync, they turned their heads toward him.Even Finley—who had been through plenty of brutal situations—felt his blood run cold at the sight of their faces. What was left of their faces, anyway. Their skin was torn apart, barely recognizable beneath the layers of blood. Dean’s face was a mangled mess, his left eye socket completely empty, blood still seeping from the wound. Kent’s right ear had been sliced nearly all the way off, hanging by just a thread of flesh, swinging grotesquely as he moved. Their clothes were in tatters, their bodies covered in deep cuts, fresh blood still oozing from open wounds. It was clear they had just endured something beyond human comprehension. If it weren’t for their builds, hairstyles, and what little remained of their clothes, Finley wouldn’t have even recognized them. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground in terror. His mouth opened, but all he could manage was, "You… you…" His entire body shook violently. He couldn’t even finish a sentence. Kent and Dean hesitated for only a second before launching themselves toward Finley, crawling at a terrifying speed. With their faces covered in blood, their bodies mangled and broken, they looked less like men and more like monsters clawing their way out of hell. Finley’s mind went blank with fear. He instinctively tried to back away, but his trembling legs were too slow. The two of them reached him in seconds. They clamped onto his legs with an unrelenting grip. The moment they opened their mouths to speak, more blood spilled from their lips. With the amount of damage they had taken, it was a miracle they were even alive. The only thing keeping them moving was sheer desperation. To them, Finley was their last chance—the only hope they had left. They latched onto him with a death grip, unwilling to let go. "Mr. Finley! Mr. Finley, please, save me! It’s me, Kent! I’ve been loyal to you for so long, please, don’t let me die!"Kent’s voice was hoarse, broken with panic as he slammed his forehead against the ground, bowing over and over again. But even as he begged, his hands never loosened their grip on Finley’s legs. Dean clung to Finley’s other leg, his head slamming against the ground as he babbled in a panicked frenzy. "Mr. Finley! Mr. Finley, please, save me! I’ll do anything! I swear, I’ll serve you however you want! Just let me live, I’m begging you!" His forehead smacked against the hard floor again and again, the impact splitting the skin open. Blood ran down his face, mixing with the wounds he already had. But he didn’t care. Pain didn’t matter. Survival was the only thing that mattered. If he had known things would turn out this way, he never would have tried to impress Finley. He never would have gotten involved in this mess. No—if he had really known, he never would have become a cop at all. He had fought to get into the police force, using every connection his family had, thinking it would make him someone important. He had wanted power, respect. Instead, it had led him straight to his worst nightmare. But now, there was no point in regrets. It was too late.