Chapter 42

As the bodyguards shifted towards Kyle, he merely raised his hand slightly, and they all collapsed to the floor. Their bones seemed to have turned to jelly; not a single one could stand.

Jor froze, staring at Kyle in utter shock. "What did you do? Why are they—"

Kyle chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I didn't do much. I temporarily disabled their ability to fight. Don't worry, they'll suffer no harm. As for how I did it, there's no point in explaining; you wouldn't believe me anyway."

In that instant, Kyle had used golden acupuncture needles to swiftly disable the bodyguards by disrupting their energy flow. Their attention was entirely focused on him, so they hadn't noticed the needles. By the time they realized something was wrong, the needles were already back in Kyle's possession.

Joe's face darkened, his voice laced with anger. "Are you trying to say that I, Joe Russo, am ignorant? Stop trying to scare me. We didn't see you do anything, so stop spouting nonsense."

Kyle shook his head in disdain. "See? I didn't say anything, and you didn't believe me. If I told you, you'd probably laugh. So why waste my breath?" He took a step closer to Joe, his tone growing colder. "But I'd advise you not to get worked up. Just stand there quietly. Otherwise, you'll not only collapse like your men, but you'll feel as if a thousand ants are gnawing at you—painful and itchy. At your age, do you really want to go through that kind of suffering?"

Kyle then turned his attention to Peter, lying on the bed. He patted his face lightly. "Still pretending to be asleep?"

Peter's eyes snapped open, but the moment he saw Kyle's wicked smile, he screamed in terror. "No! Don't come near me! Please, I'm begging you! I was wrong—I know I was wrong! Please, let me go! I won't offend you anymore!"

As if seeing a demon, Peter rolled off the bed and fell to his knees, frantically kowtowing. His desperation was palpable; his pride and dignity discarded. For Peter, pride and honor meant nothing compared to the terror of experiencing that torment again. The mere thought of it—the pain of being unable to live or die—was enough to make him shudder. It had become his deepest fear, the most haunting shadow of his life.

Joe stared at Peter in disbelief, his heart aching. "Son, my boy. What are you doing?"

Seeing his father, Peter burst into tears. "Dad, please beg him! Beg him to spare me! I truly know I was wrong. Help me, Dad!"

Joe knew his son better than anyone. Though Peter wasn't utterly depraved, he was undeniably arrogant and reckless. This level of groveling and complete loss of composure was unthinkable for him. The fact that Peter, even after seeing his father, remained in this state—begging for his life—proved one thing: Kyle had completely broken him.

Joe's eyes burned with fury, his face turning red with rage and humiliation. "Kyle, what did you do to my son? If you don't explain yourself, I won't let you leave here." But even as he shouted, he couldn't bring himself to look at Peter, who was now a trembling mess.

Kyle's face was icy, his gaze playful yet indifferent. "If I tell you, will you let me go? Hah, I don't need your permission. But sure, I'll tell you myself. And honestly, you should be thanking me. I could have killed him and ended your family line, but I chose to let him live. Don't you agree?" Joe staggered back, nearly coughing up blood.

Turning Peter into a broken shell and then demanding gratitude? This was the ultimate insult!

Kyle's eyes turned cold. "Now you're feeling sorry for him? How many people has Peter harmed? Do you think their parents didn't feel the same pain? Every victim had parents too. When their children suffered at Peter's hands, where were you? What kind of family head are you, what kind of father, to be so blind? Instead of stopping him, you allowed him. All because of your self-righteous sense of power? Is this what you call the behavior of a noble family?"

Peter continued to weep on the floor, still begging Kyle for mercy.

Kyle shook his head slightly and patted Peter's shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't kill you. And even if you want to die, you won't be able. However long you live, that's how long you'll suffer. This is your punishment."

With that, Kyle turned his attention back to Joe.

Grace, standing to the side, trembled. "What are you planning to do?"

Kyle shot her a cold glance—a clear warning. Grace immediately stepped back, giving Kyle wide berth.

Without hesitation, Kyle punched Joe squarely in the face, forcing him to double over. Before Joe could recover, Kyle followed up with a kick to his stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground.