Seeing Amon in such torment, Casare smiled.

Euphoric, he enjoyed seeing Amon suffering as he felt he had avenged himself.

Casare took a gun from his waist, pressed it against Amon’s injured thigh, and then thrust it hard into the bl oody wound.

Covered in a cold sweat, Amon’s face was pale from the pain, but he gritted his teeth and stared at Casare with his bloodshot eyes.

Staring back, Casare smiled condescendingly, and then spoke casually.

“Amon, do you know that I had hoped you ...