Twins in Her Womb: Sir President, Please be Gentle by Heap Heap

Abel sat on the couch. The genuine leather couch engulfed half of his body.
He adjusted into a comfortable position and stared straight ahead at the person
before him.
Gerald felt his heart race under Abel's gaze. Was he in trouble?
"Beat him," Abel suddenly spoke in Russian.
Gerald did not understand what he meant and turned to look at those men beside
him. After they received Abel's command, they immediately began raining blows
on Gerald.
"Stop it, stop it! I was wrong, I was wrong!" After getting beaten up so many
times, Gerald instinctively crouched down and hugged his head to protect
himself.
"Hit him, and hit him hard!" Abel's eyes were fierce. Even though he did not
understand what Gerald said and no one was interpreting it for him, he could tell
Gerald was pleading for mercy.
Half an hour later, Gerald collapsed. His face was swollen and bruised, and his
limbs were covered in bruises.
Gerald was miserable, but no one begged for mercy for him. The two men who
beat him dared not show any mercy. They knew if they did, they would be in
trouble themselves.
Hence, they kicked him hard.
"Ugh..." Gerald gave up begging for mercy. He even felt like he might die here
today.
He could not help but recall what was said during the training for the Island of
Despair. It was true. If they failed their missions, they would likely face death,
unless there was a turning point...
Abel watched Gerald, who was almost breathless from the beating. He tilted his
head slightly, signaling his subordinates to stop.
When they received the signal, they stopped. "Kneel," commanded Abel.
Gerald heard him. It took him a while to snap out of it before he finally reacted.
Then, he slowly kneeled.
"Gerald, I'm giving you another chance," Abel muttered slowly, with someone
interpreting for Gerald.
Gerald let out a cold shiver. Was this the turning point they talked about?
However, could he really do it?
"Boss, please give me your instructions,” replied Gerald, suppressing the metallic
taste in his throat.
"Kill the two men in the police station and this will be settled,” continued Abel.
A shiver ran through Gerald when he heard the words the interpreter relayed.
Kill?
He had never killed anyone before. Despite their training, their usual orders only
involved beating people. He had never killed anyone!
With his skills, how could he possibly take a life?
Gerald, who was afraid, lifted his head. However, he was pressed down by Abel's
subordinate. "Boss doesn't want to see your messed-up face."
When Gerald heard this, he trembled even more. He lowered his head until it
almost touched the floor before he stopped.
"Boss, I can't kill people,” Gerald quivered as he spoke.
Abel let out a cold sneer. He knew well the capabilities of those trained and
deployed. However, there were only two paths for Gerald to choose from at the
moment.
"091, if you don't kill this time, you'll be killed. I don't have much patience left with
you. You have two choices, so choose one.” Abel said, forcing Gerald to make a
decision. He sounded like a devil.
It was either Jacob or him...
Gerald shivered and clenched his teeth. "Boss, I can't die. I'll kill them."
"Take him to Mr. Shanks,” Abel commanded. He then lifted a glass of red wine
and swirled it.
The dark red liquid inside was like human blood. It sloshed with each movement
and almost spilled over the rim of the glass.
The two men nodded and proceeded to escort Gerald upstairs.
They had arranged for a family-style apartment suite. Shanks lived upstairs while
Abel resided downstairs.
Before they even brought Gerald upstairs, Shanks could already smell the strong
scent of blood. He listened to the footsteps and casually asked, "Did your boss
beat up someone again?"
"Yes, Mr. Shanks," the two men replied in unison as they carried Gerald upstairs
and dropped him on the floor. One of the men said, "Mr. Shanks, sorry for the
trouble.”
"It's indeed troublesome.” Shanks glanced at Gerald. It was a Caucasian face.
It seemed this person failed to complete the task Abel had assigned him.
It was frustrating. The rule on the Island of Despair was simple. If one failed to
complete his task, one either ended up injured or dead.
As harsh as it was, Abel still chose these Caucasians to carry out missions.
It was not that Shanks looked down on them. It was just that their training was far
simpler compared to the killers who underwent rigorous training on the Island of
Despair.
The quality of the two groups was vastly different.
It was alright for these temporarily recruited Caucasians to run errands, but was it
not akin to sending them to their deaths if they were assigned missions?
Moreover, every time Abel beat someone to the brink of disability or death, he
sent them here...
The physical condition of these Caucasians was not as good as those from the
Island of Despair.
Even though those who got beaten up were always left gasping for breath, the
ones from the Island of Despair were much easier to save.
"Mr. Shanks, we're leaving him with you. Thank you." The two men exchanged a
glance before one of them spoke. Then, they left.
"Pass a message for me. Tell him to be more careful in the future. Either don't
beat them up or don't bring them to me. I'm not here to professionally save
people," said Shanks. His gaze fell on Gerald.
Tsk, he must have broken a few bones. But those men had deliberately avoided
vital areas while beating him. There was no reckless striking, so this person
should not be in mortal danger.
However, he was not from the Island of Despair. It would take several months for
his bones to be healed...
"Save me." Gerald reached out toward Shanks.
Even though he did not know who Shanks was, judging from the conversation
between the two men, he figured this man might be able to save him.
His will to survive was strong. He wanted to grasp onto this man in front of him
tightly.
Shanks looked disdainfully at Gerald, who was covered in blood. He said calmly,
"You've been delivered.
I have no intention of throwing you aside. Just wait."
Gerald was taken aback for a moment. Did he have to wait?
He could feel his life slipping away with each drop of blood from his body. If he
waited any longer, he might die.
Would the Island of Despair even provide him with a coffin after killing him...
Gerald's thoughts turned desperate. It seemed unlikely. He should not dwell on
lis,
Shanks made a phone call. "Are you available?"
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Luca, who was on the other end of
the line, was surprised, shanks nh
ids contact
her, and he even asked if she was
free. The content is on
Novelxo.org! Read the latest
chapter there!
"Mr. Shanks, I'm currently occupied. The police are still here, and I'll be heading
back to A City with the main team later," replied Luca.
"Oh," replied Shanks before hanging up.
As Luca listened to the busy tone, she was puzzled.
Shanks rubbed his chin and looked at Gerald. "What's your name?"
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I" i

Gerald Muller," Gerald struggled to
speak. He could feel the Seng
speak dein fromihim. He had
almbst exerted all his energy just to
utter those two words. The content is
on Novelxo.org! Read the latest
chapter there!
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ne : 1

I'm not asking for your name. I'm
asking for your ID number in then

: : [1 ¢
organ zis 2 Shanks
Doctors usually had the habit of
A Slo

asking for a patient's name. The
content is on Novelxo.org! Read
the latest chapter there!
However, that was because they needed to establish a rapport with the patient.
Shanks did not need that. He just wanted to know the person's ID number for
addressing purposes later.