Master of Lust

Chapter 142: Rick, Roy and Romance under the sky [3]

Chapter - 142

"Please, old man, I don't know what you want from me, but I can't take it anymore," Roy sobbed, blood mixing with his tears as he struggled against the restraints. "Just let me go. I won't tell anyone about this. I swear."

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Roy felt his world unraveling, his world crumbled on him, the physical onslaught from Rick, pushing him to the brink. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood that seeped out from his wounds. His hands, still bound to the chair, trembled as he begged Rick, the disguised old man, for mercy.

"You still got a voice, huh?" Rick, maintaining the facade of the old man, observed Roy's anguish with an unreadable expression. The moonlight cast a haunting glow on the scene, emphasizing the desperation etched on Roy's face, "You are one tough, son of a bitch, young master."

It wasn't about Roy flexing his muscles or proving his toughness; it was Rick's calculated move that kept the guy alive and well. Rick, in a fit of rage, didn't hesitate to drop a substantial number of Ero points to ensure the stubborn fellow's survival. He bought a dozen of low level, elixirs to keep the bastard alive and kicking from the system's marketplace.

Rick bought the Verdant Vitality Serum from the system. Derived from the essence of ancient Sylvan Trees, this serum enhances the body's natural healing abilities. When ingested, it stimulates the growth of new cells, knitting together wounds. And Each of the bottle cost him 3,500 Ero points.

But Rick was so angry that he didn't really care about spending a few thousand of his precious Ero points.

On the other hand, Roy's eyes or should we say the leftover eye, once filled with defiance, was now swollen and bloodshot from the relentless stream of tears. The moonlit landscape reflected the torment etched on his face, every drop a testament to the shattering of his illusions. The disheveled strands of his wet hair clung to his forehead, mingling with the blood that now stained his face.

Roy could barely feel the taste of salt mixed with the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.

Roy's anguished pleas echoed in the dimly lit room, his face contorted with fear as he begged for mercy. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the dirt on his cheeks. "Please, have mercy. I'll do anything, anything you say. I won't breathe a word. Just let me go back home," he pleaded, his voice quivering with desperation.

Roy, unable to withstand the physical and emotional torment, whispered through sobs, "I promise, I won't remember any of this. Just let me go, please."

Roy's desperate pleas for mercy hung in the air, but Rick, still disguised as the ominous old man, looked down at him with a devilish smirk.

"I know what happened to Emily," Roy stammered, his voice barely audible over the wind that carried his pitiful cries.

Roy's screams echoed through the desolate landscape with each brutal strike of the belt. Rick, driven by a manic determination, demanded answers with every merciless blow. The sound of flesh meeting leather and the guttural cries of pain created a symphony of horror that seemed to punctuate the desolation.

"What's going to happen with Emily?" Rick yelled, the strikes punctuating each word. The atmosphere was charged with tension and brutality as the moonlight bore witness to the sadistic interrogation unfolding in the forsaken landscape.

Roy, battered and broken, gasped for breath between agonized screams. But Rick did not stop. He did not want to stop. And the merciless beating continued, a relentless barrage that seemed to extract both pain and fragments of the horrifying truth.

Rick, frustrated by the lack of a coherent response, continued his relentless assault. "What's going to happen with Emily? Speak, you son of a bitch!"

The blows continued, the metallic snaps of the belt against flesh creating a twisted scream of agony. Roy's screams echoed through the desolate landscape, each cry punctuated by Rick's increasingly manic demands for information.

The savage assault finally came to an end, a brutal symphony of violence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Rick stumbled backward, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. In his hand, he clutched the belt, now tainted with the grisly aftermath of Roy's blood and torn flesh, hanging limply from Rick's hand.

Roy, slumped in the chair like a lifeless puppet, had ceased his groans and grunts. His battered body seemed to hang in a grotesque tableau of agony, the only audible sound the ragged wheezing of his breath echoing in the desolate environment.

As the brutality subsided, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, a sharp contrast to the earlier cacophony of pain and suffering. The moon, an indifferent spectator to the horrors below, cast an eerie glow upon the twisted landscape, adding an unsettling ambiance to the aftermath.

As the eerie quiet settled, Rick took a couple of deep breaths, savoring the taste of the sadistic conquest. With a deliberate and calculated motion, he leaned forward, fingers closing around Roy's battered face. He grabbed Roy's swollen and bloodied face, turning it towards him.

"What's going to happen with Emily?" Rick demanded, his tone laced with a blend of impatience and anticipation. The question hung in the air, a haunting reminder of the purpose behind the merciless assault.

In the eerie stillness of the night, Roy slowly roused from what seemed like a lifeless state. His swollen eye creaked open, revealing a painful and defiant scene. His lips curved into a smirk, showcasing bloodstained teeth in a grotesque grin. A sinister chuckle slipped through his battered throat, followed by words that sent shivers into the desolation.

"That bitch is going to die today," Roy declared with a twisted satisfaction, his voice a sinister melody that echoed in the desolation, "Hehehe... That slut's days are over."

The words hung in the air, a chilling proclamation that seemed to reverberate through the silent landscape. Rick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected response.

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