The Million-Dollar Heart

Chapter 493

Crashing his phone to the ground, Flynn unleashed a fury of stomps upon the shattered device.

"I lost. Take me in." Flynn's voice dripped with laziness as he raised his hands in mock surrender, tilting his head to catch Percival's gaze.

But then, with a swift bite, he crushed the cyanide hidden in his molar.

He had always known this day would come.

Even in death, he would not be cuffed by the likes of Percival!

Blood spilled from his mouth as he knelt, the light fading behind his designer spectacles, "Percival, you'll never unearth the kingpin behind GTO."

His laughter echoed through the dark alley, a spectral sound that chilled to the bone.

Yet, the agony he anticipated never arrived.

F-Poison had given him this poison, and it was a lethal concoction, sure death on contact. How was he still alive?

Lifting his head, Flynn locked eyes with Vivienne, whose expression was akin to someone watching a fool. It all clicked.

She, the Specter Healer, was behind this.

Vivienne towered over him, her aura that of a queen, "Wish to die?"

Flynn glared back, bitter. "There's no grudge between us. My death serves you no ill!"

Her smile bloomed, radiant and short-lived, replaced by a chilling murderous intent. "Your death means nothing to me. But you dared cross Mr. Wolf. For that, I would have relished your end. However..." Her smile returned as she said, "Since you so desire death, I won't oblige you."

His eyes narrowed, venomous. "There are a thousand ways to die if I wish it."

of hair behind her ear, her piercing gaze lifted slightly, "The poison I bestowed upon you, I named it 'Mandragora.' It will hijack your nerves. Should suicidal thoughts arise, it will paralyze your body.

at you, two hours each day, gnawing at your insides while leaving no physical mark. Enjoy the rest of

Flynn's pupils dilated.

at such claims, but knowing she was the Specter Healer, he believed. Vivienne

could face death, but not the dread of daily torment with

satisfaction was evident as she crouched to meet his eyes, her voice a cold, clear chime. "Cross me, you die. Cross those I care for, and you'll beg for death. White Tiger,

words, calm and steady, bathed in sunlight,

made a silent vow never to provoke those dear to Vivienne; a life of suffering with no escape was too grievous

heart raced at her words, overwhelmed by the

to him; he resolved to be worthy of her for the remainder

to Flynn, Vivienne rose

operatives with his free hand.

lips pressed tightly, one last

being the Ellington

after another, vied for that

in Rivenwood, sure, but not in

the ancient

sway. Percival's integrity as the captain of the Vanguard Agency, now the Deputy Director, was its only political

for his own benefit.

fathom why his sons

at his father. "You

he

resigned. Old age was upon

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