Chapter: 417

The death of the man caused his companions to panic.

Two men were injured and lay on the ground. The remaining three struggled to their feet, looking for an opportunity to flee.

One man fell to his knees, his forehead touching the ground, pleading for his life, “Ma'am, please have mercy. We were only following orders. We didn't mean any harm. Please."

“How did you torment my friend in the ward today? Describe what you had done." Norah's Lips curved into a smile. "The more details you provide, the better your chances of surviving."

“I know." The kneeling man hastily said, "I was merely a bystander.

The others were responsible. They used needles on her, tore her clothes, and cursed her while pressing on her injuries."

“Brock, don't shift the blame on us! You were the one using the needles and pulling her hair.”

“Fuck you! Why are you betraying your own? Truthfully, ma'am, he was the most aggressive with the needles."

Fear of death made the three men accuse each other, each hoping to earn Norah's forgiveness.

As Norah listened to their blame game, her gaze grew icier. She saw how these men preyed on the vulnerable just to assert their dominance.

Pretty soon, their argument escalated into a physical altercation.

"That's enough!" Norah's command halted them in their tracks. In a swift motion, she plunged her dagger into the legs of the three men, rendering them immobile.

She tilted her head, observing their agony as she began to record them with her phone, a malevolent grin playing on her lips. “Come on, smile."

In such torment, who could possibly grin? To these men, Norah was like a devil!

Norah retrieved a slender, sturdy iron wire from the nearby construction area, her expression grim. "The one who died quickly was fortunate. He was spared from what's to come. However, you won't be as lucky."

Seconds later, the men's screams filled the room.

“Ah! Please!"

“Fuck! Jesus Christ, it burns!"

“Argh! Please, make it stop!"

With the wire in hand, Norah jabbed at the men with the force of driving a needle. Each thrust left a bloody wound, sometimes hitting bone with her powerful strikes.

Inside the opposite building, clutching the telescope, the man in the black robe began to tremble. “Does Deacon Zyair truly believe she requires our protection?"

Since Norah could single-handedly take on six men and dispatch them with such brutality, why the need for their protection?

“Just do our jobs. We'll assist in gathering the bodies later." His companion, clad in a similar black robe, lay with his eye pressed to the rifle scope, watching Norah intently, ready to move if harm came her way.

Once the recording was finished, Norah methodically eliminated all the men. She discovered that the mere sight of her gun was enough to make her opponents give up their arms, lose all hope, and become easy prey for her.