The Runaway Groom

Chapter 342

There was a small white bottle, a switchblade, and a lighter.

None of them were particularly deadly, but with a little work, it could still inflict damage to the human body.

Quincy therefore had to act calm. “We’re in a police station.”

Stan chuckled. “We know that, so we won’t do anything stupid. That said, I’m quite close with that officer just now, so he’s willing to give us some space.”

Quinc’ys face paled, even as Stan took off his tie and stuffed it into her mouth.

Isaac rose to his feet as well, picking up the switchblade and ejecting the blade-it was not particularly huge, but very sharp.

“I can do it, sir,” Stan said, walking up to him.

Isaac, however, stayed silent as he walked around the table toward Quincy and pressed the blade against Quincy’s face.

He just needed to apply little pressure, and the blade would cut through Quincy’s skin.

Quincy could only whimper, her pupils dilating as her whole body stiffened.

was meat on the butcher’s table, and

death.

death was easy-one would not know it after

spiritual torment certainly left one wishing

As Isaac spoke, he slid the switchblade from Quincy’s face to her neck, and she did not move at all-she was basically

it, and the

since

had been sneaking glances while Irene studied her medical books, which described at length about a human’s vulnerable spots,

one could reach. there, free from blood vessels

her face turned pale. Her pupils

Isaac would get

at him, his

kept trying. “She may be heinous, but she’s not worth getting

suddenly plunged the switchblade into Quincy’s shoulder even

it out, he gave Stan a look. “Don’t

whimpering miserably, her facial features

could not help shuddering

that Quincy deserved it, he pretended to look sympathetic. Picking up the white bottle, he said,