[Ian: Rachel, I love you!]

[Rachel: Ian, you're usually not this sappy. What's gotten into you?]

Ian dared not tell her about his current predicament.

He thought, 'If anything happens, let this be my final words.'

His phone vibrated. Rachel's reply soon followed. [Ian, I love you too.]

Tears brimmed in Ian's eyes. His lips trembled, and his heart raced wildly. 'Screw it. If I die, I die.'

He reached for the machete, opened the car door, and charged forward to help Justin. He managed to injure two men in one go.

But he had no real combat skills. He was a complete amateur. Within a few exchanges, his arm was slashed, the wound so deep that the bone was almost visible.

"Ian! Get back in the car!" Justin roared, glaring at him.

In that moment of distraction, a machete slashed straight toward Justin's face.

cold sweat soaked

in time and grabbed

the car, pale with pain. Only then did he understand why Justin had told him to

only causing

over ten minutes,

was in shreds, slashed to pieces. His chiseled,

undefeated

enemy reinforcements arrived. They were quickly

eyes glowed crimson, as if filled with blood. Gripping a blade wrestled from an enemy, he tilted his head. The sound of

was no end to

his way out of the siege, the press conference would already be

roar of a sports

"Justin! We're here!"

his head around. From a blue Ferrari, Asher and

in Justin's gaze wavered slightly. A storm of emotions churned in his chest. His entire being

sound escaped

war on Grant, Justin had resolved to walk this treacherous, sinister, unpredictable

to proceed

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