"Aaaaahhhhhhh!" The man's anguished scream echoed through the dimly lit room, his voice cracking with desperation. "Just kill me!!! I beg you, just kill me!"
The man in the gray suit, his lean physique exuding an aura of menace, spoke in a calm yet powerful voice, his words dripping with sadistic intent. "Shut up! If you want to live, tell us what we want to know. If you cooperate, we'll end your suffering quickly. But if you remain silent..." He paused, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "We'll continue to torture you, inch by agonizing inch."
The man's body was slowly being submerged into a vat of boiling water, his skin reddening as he screamed in unbearable pain. "I'll tell you, please stop this!" he begged, his voice hoarse from screaming.
Just as the man's torment seemed endless, a bodyguard interrupted, his voice firm and respectful. "Sir, DISPARO boss is here."
The man in the gray suit nodded to himself and made his way towards a heavily fortified door. He rapped his knuckles against the door five times, the sound echoing through the silence. With a soft click, the door swung open, and he stepped inside.
As he entered the room, his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, revealing a space that seemed to embody the very essence of violence. One entire wall was dedicated to a gruesome display of statues riddled with bullet holes, a macabre testament to the destructive power of firearms.
The adjacent wall was transformed into a twisted art gallery, with guns of every caliber and model meticulously arranged to resemble a bizarre form of jewelry. The gleaming metal of AK-47s, snipers, MP40s, and other deadly firearms seemed to mock the visitor, their presence a stark reminder of the room's sinister purpose.
The third wall was divided into two sections, with a green board on one side and a whiteboard on the other. The contrast between the two boards seemed to symbolize the duality of the room's occupant – a mastermind who walked the thin line between chaos and strategy.
As the man in the gray suit approached the far end of the room, his gaze fell upon a figure lounging on a black leather sofa. The individual was clad in a tailored black suit, complete with polished shoes that seemed to gleam with an air of malevolence. The figure's hands were busily toying with a gun, their fingers moving with a deadly precision that seemed to mirror the aura of the room.
The air was heavy with tension as the man in the gray suit approached the sofa, his eyes locked onto the figure's face. The expression that greeted him was one of calculated menace, a look that seemed to bore into his very soul.
The gray suit man's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, "Greetings, Boss DISPARO, we've finally found him, and he's ready to cooperate." A low, husky voice, like warm honey, filled the room, "Hmm..." The sound was fleeting, yet it seemed to leave a lasting impression on the space.
The two moved towards the door, and the gray suit man pushed it open, revealing a sign that read "Paradise" in bold, ironic letters. The room beyond was a twisted mockery of its namesake, with the man being tortured suspended in a state of agonized limbo.
As they entered, the man's eyes widened in terror as a figure emerged from the dimly lit shadows. The air seemed to vibrate with an aura of power as the figure approached, and everyone in the room bowed their heads in deference.
The man's eyes locked onto the figure's face, and he felt his mind reel in shock. His voice trembled as he asked, "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
The figure's face was a vision of serene beauty, with piercing eyes that seemed to bore into the man's very soul. A sweet, mesmerizing voice, like the gentle lapping of waves on a summer shore, responded, "Well, I'm a secret agent, and unfortunately, you possess knowledge about a person we've been trying to apprehend for a very long time." The voice was Pakhi's, and it seemed to weave a spell of calm around the room, even as the man's world was turned upside down.
Author's here:
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~THE LUSCIOUS AFFECTION~
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