As he spoke, he casually swept his gaze over the corpse on the floor—the face already so mangled that no features could be made out.
Would they be able to tell it was the secretary?
It didn't matter if they couldn't.
In a moment, those two would become just like him, meeting their former companion together beneath the ground.
The Rat-Man ended the call with a pleased click. He slowly turned the office chair back around, leaving only Yale's figure for the audience who was about to arrive.
Less than two minutes later, a steady knock sounded at the door.
"Reporting, sir."
Yale, seated in the chair, slowly opened his eyes. His lips parted, and he murmured, "Come in."
The two men pushed open the door. What greeted them was Yale smiling at them from the chair—a twisted, unnatural curve, like a corpse's grin.
And there, sprawled in front of the desk, lay a blood-soaked body.
The two subordinates exchanged a glance, their scalps crawling with dread.
"S–Sir… this is…"
