The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus)

Chapter 406

You could clinch the ultimate victory by being more ferocious and terrifying than your enemy.

Jackson's objective was brutally simple. He was biding his time for Hector to emerge as the last man standing, to become his unflinching weapon of death.

The sea breeze howled incessantly, from dawn until dusk, as the sounds of a fierce struggle within the container gradually subsided. After a while, the container doors creaked open, and Hector stumbled out, limping.

At that moment, he was drenched in blood, like a war deity stepping straight out of hell, radiating a lethal aura of death and cruelty. He walked over the corpses of four men. His body was smeared with blood, resembling a demon that emerged from the inferno, and his eyes were void of any warmth, chilling to the bone.

Jackson watched the blood-soaked Hector and smiled slightly. "Good, it seems my judgment was not mistaken."

All the while, Helen had stood by Jackson's side, confident that Hector would claim the ultimate victory. And just as she had predicted, the one who walked out alive was indeed her very own find, John!

Helen squealed and flung herself at Hector. "Ha, | knew you were the best! You're incredible!" As she spoke, Helen burrowed into Hector's arms, utterly indifferent to the blood that covered him.

With an expressionless face, Hector looked coldly at Jackson and asked in a raspy voice, "Are you satisfied with what you've seen?”

Jackson nodded. "You haven't disappointed me. The resources weren't wasted." With that, Jackson turned and left without a backward glance.

Meanwhile, Helen, drawn to the scent of blood on Hector, sniffed it obsessively, thrilled by the aroma that excited her immensely. She grabbed Hector's hand. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes. My God, | can't wait to savor your raw power!"

Hector didn't argue with Helen's words, allowing her to lead him towards the beach.

The ocean was vast and unforgiving. Helen, carrying clothes for Hector to change into, ripped off his bloodied garments in a frenzy and pulled his hand onto her ample curves, "Kiss me, love me, now!"

Hector's eyes, devoid of emotion, stared at the inexplicably excited Helen and complied with her command, pressing his lips to hers. He didn't understand why he was doing this, only that he felt compelled to follow the sound of her voice.

The two embraced in the sea. Hector's blood washed away with the tide. Helen, frantic with desire, reached for Hector's lower body, and her voice sounded sultry and enthralling. "John, give it to me now!"

However, her face darkened the next second as her hand found only a flaccid softness, utterly unable to become firm. Frustration surged within Helen, and her face turned purple with unvented lust.

She slapped Hector hard across the face. "You're worthless! A damn waste!" Hector's cheek quickly bore the imprint of five fingers, yet he did not retaliate, silently enduring Helen's slaps.

Picking up the clothes she'd tossed onto the sand, Helen stormed off, cursing as she went. "I thought I'd found a treasure, but it's just junk, damn bad luck!"

Hector remained in the water, seemingly unaffected, as if nothing mattered to him. Soon, several burly men arrived, plucking him from the sea and dragging him off to a place where prisoners were usually kept.

Depleted of strength from his recent battle, Hector was powerless to resist as they threw him into a pitch-black cell. The cell was claustrophobic, devoid of light, and barely enough room to turn around.

But even confined, Hector's face remained expressionless, and his demeanor was detached. He was like a soulless marionette, seemingly disconnected from everything.

Time passed silently in the cell, absent of light or sound. Hector stood there without a word. His head was bowed, his eyes cast down, and his thoughts inscrutable.

On the island, many such cells existed, primarily to torture and break those who dared to defy the island master, Jackson Fie dey, spmedrié Would bring scraps to prevent the prisoners from starving to death. The purpose of these cells was to induce a breakdown in the endless darkness and silence until the captives were utterly submissive. Please read the original content at .

Days slipped away, and after ten silent days had passed, the door finally opened with a screech. Jackson stood before Hector, his expression dark as he offered a cold ultimatum. "You have two choices, rot here until death or obey me and become my most ruthless killer."

Without hesitation, Hector replied, "The second one."

"Good, | always appreciate a young man who knows his place. Work for me, and you won't be s ricfrangied)" Cc soma, ‘afning o leave. Then he’paused, looking at Hector with disdain. "Even though you're now useless as aman, a eunuch can still kill. Come with me; we've got a shipment to collect." Please read the original content at .

Ignoring Jackson's mockery, Hector silently followed him onto the speedboat heading out to sea.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

Jackson usually lurked on his island, waiting for wealthy merchant ships to pass by so he could plunder them, but today, his goal wasn't to raid a merchant ship; it was to deal with another gang that eked out a living on the high seas.

Their dealings were always shrouded in secrecy, yet Jackson's heart was darker than most, and he planned to double-cross his partners in crime. He led Hector, who was as pliable as a puppet, onto a small boat that both parties tacitly approved of, to commence the transaction.

Each side opened their cases, satisfied with what they saw, and nodded to signal a successful trade. But at that very moment, Jackson suddenly spat out a command, "Take ‘em down!"

In this dog-eat-dog world, the other guys were quick on their feet. Clutching the goods they hadn't yet had the chance to trade, they spun around, aiming to leap back onto their dinghy.

With the agility of a puma, Hector swept the legs out from under the two with a clean, swift move then grabbed handfabit then hair, vette heads back so their necks stretched taut, while the glint of his switchblade danced menacingly in his hand before it sliced swiftly through the air. Please read the original content at .