A Birthday Worth Remembering
Then, with a faint glimmer of hope still lingering in his eyes, the elderly bodyguard looked toward Julian D'Aurelius pitifully and said,
"Sir… I only have one arm left. I… I can't break it myself."
His voice carried both fear and humiliation.
Before Julian could respond—
Jareb immediately stepped forward with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting for exactly this moment.
"I'll help you."
He rolled his shoulders as if warming up for a workout.
Without the slightest hesitation, he threw a heavy punch.
CRACK!
The old man's remaining arm snapped with a brutal sound.
The force of the strike made the old man stagger backward violently.
He almost spat out a mouthful of blood.
His face twisted in pain as he bit his tongue to suppress the scream rising in his throat.
Inside his mind, however, he was cursing furiously.
Damn it…
You helpful bastard!
Jareb calmly dusted off his hands as if he had just done something charitable.
