Passed out?
Sinclair narrowed his eyes, his thin lips curling into a cold smirk.
"This is just the beginning."
The bluish-white smoke he exhaled swirled in the air before dissipating, masking the pungent scent of blood lingering in the air.
Ramsey immediately understood the unspoken command and turned to the mercenary behind him.
"Get the stimulant. Wake him up."
"Sir!"
The mercenary pulled out a bottle of dark green liquid from his vest and approached the unconscious bald man.
Uncapping the bottle, he held it beneath the man's nostrils.
Within moments, the bald man groaned back to consciousness.
The pain, lying dormant until now, surged through him in relentless waves.
His face, momentarily peaceful, twisted into a mask of agony as he let out another bloodcurdling scream—even more harrowing than before.
The mercenary didn't give him the chance to black out again.
Seizing the moment, he gripped the man's jaw and forced the liquid down his throat.
