Darnell could no longer tolerate it and ordered the scar-faced man to shut up immediately, as he couldn’t bring himself to let his ears be tortured by his singing.
With a look of disdain, he said, “You can’t fight, and your singing is terrifying. How did you ever become a leader?”
The scar-faced man managed to squeeze out a sentence, “James is my relative.”
Darnell responded with an understanding, “Oh, I see.” It turned out that he had connections backing him up.
As the cold prison cell returned to silence, Darnell let out a heavy sigh of relief, ordered the scar-faced man to crawl to the corner to sleep, and stretched out on his bed.
Just as he took a swig of alcohol, he suddenly caught a faint but real scent of hostility.
The next second, two figures lunged at Darnell on the bed, one aiming for his head and the other for his abdomen.
The attackers were two bald men guarding the middle-aged man. They attacked like fierce tigers with overwhelming force, moving with remarkable speed, clearly seasoned fighters.
An ordinary person wouldn’t be able to dodge their assault, but unfortunately for them, they were facing Darnell.
Whoosh!
As they got close, Darnell flicked his lighter with his right hand and spat out the alcohol he had been drinking.
The sprayed liquor ignited instantly, creating a streak of flame in mid-air.
“Ah!”
The bald man aiming for Darnell’s head saw a flash of fire before feeling the searing heat on his eyebrows and nose. He screamed and fell back.
His eyebrows were nearly burned off, and his cheeks were scorched.
Meanwhile, Darnell shifted his body, clamping his legs around the other bald man’s arm with ease.
“Trying to sneak attack? Let me give you a proper shave.”
With a playful grin, Darnell jabbed his cigar at the bald man’s head. A sizzle followed as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
The bald man screamed in pain and tried to break free but couldn’t move. Then Darnell jabbed him again with the cigar, eliciting another scream.
Another scar appeared on his head as he cried out in agony.
“Let me give your bald head a few scars as decorations,” he said with a smirk.
Before the man could react, Darnell jabbed repeatedly with the cigar, burning nine scars onto his head until tears streamed down his face from the pain.
The scar-faced man and others watched in horror, suddenly feeling their situation wasn’t so bad after all.
After burning nine scars, Darnell kicked him away and threw a bottle at the other bald man with burnt eyebrows, smashing his head.
The two bald men jumped around in pain, tears streaming down their faces from frustration and humiliation.
“What about you?”
Darnell asked the middle-aged man while holding a cigar in his mouth. “Let’s finish this quickly so I can sleep.”
The middle-aged man smiled and motioned for his recovering subordinates to stop attacking.
“Young man, you’re impressive. Your moves seemed chaotic but were actually well-planned.”
“You broke light bulbs, picked up shards, held the scar-faced man hostage to wear them down before easily taking them out. You surprised me.”
“You surprised me too,” Darnell replied as he walked over. “I thought you were sensible enough not to attack. I didn’t expect that you would have your men ambush me.”
“If I weren’t capable enough, I’d be in trouble by now.”
The middle-aged man chuckled softly “But it’s them who are in trouble now. These two are skilled fighters who have never suffered like this before.”
He glanced at them with dissatisfaction. “Maybe they think you won unfairly by using alcohol and cigars. But I believe even with ten chances, they’d still lose.”
Darnell sat beside him. “Are you praising me?”
“Of course. You’re good. My judgment is never wrong.”
The middle-aged man extended his hand. “I’m Elon Billingsley. Friends call me ‘Mr. Billionaire’.”
“Never heard of you,” Darnell replied bluntly. “But ‘Mr. Billionaire’ sounds nice. Are you rich?”
“I do have a bit of money,” Elon smiled. “Do you want money?”
“I don’t take unearned rewards.” Darnell stretched lazily. “But you can do me a favor. Since your men ambushed me, how about protecting me tonight as compensation?”
He held a blood-stained shard. “I want a good night’s sleep.”
He cut Elon’s hand with it. Blood spurted out and dripped onto the floor.
Elon’s mouth twitched slightly as he glanced at the shard and Darnell’s hand, long and fair like an artist’s yet capable of snapping necks easily.
He motioned for his subordinates not to act and calmly wiped away the blood before smiling at Darnell. “No problem.”
“Good! Let’s sleep then. There’s much to handle tomorrow,” Darnell said as he lay down beside Elon. “Mr. Billionaire, my safety is your safety.”
“And tell your men not to come near. Just a reminder. I have a habit of killing in my sleep.”
Elon wasn’t angry. Instead, he laughed with interest. This was the first young man who made him bleed.
Darnell slept soundly without worry.
The next morning, before dawn broke fully, James arrived with several officers, intending to see Darnell beaten badly but was shocked by what he found.
The scar-faced man and his gang huddled in the corner, their hands and feet bound. They looked weary and worn, with bruises and dried blood smeared across their faces.
Water stains and shards littered the floor while the overhead lampshade was shattered.
Darnell slept soundly beside Elon with a cup of water nearby and a cigar in hand, looking quite content.
James was furious. He’d gone to such lengths to get Darnell here despite immense pressure just to vent anger over an exploded gun barrel incident only for this outcome.
He glared at the scar-faced men angrily before ordering his men to open the door quickly.
Clang!
After his subordinates opened the iron door of the cell, James shouted in exasperation, “Darnell!”
All twenty or so inmates in the cell opened their eyes at once. The scar-faced man, upon seeing James, looked as if he had spotted a savior, his face filled with distress, and he nearly burst into tears.
But there was no response from still-sleeping-Darnell, who turned over, continuing snoring away peacefully.
James was furious as he snatched an electric baton and swung it against the iron door with a crackling hiss. “Darnell!”
Clang!
Darnell jolted awake, scrambling to his feet, accidentally knocking over a nearby cup of water that hit James squarely on the nose.
“Ouch!” James yelped, dropping the baton and clutching his nose as he stepped back a few paces, tears welling up from the pain.
“Who called me? Who called me?” Darnell shouted as he jumped off the bed. “Don’t you know I was sleeping?”
“Didn’t I tell you I have a habit of killing in my dreams? Aren’t you afraid that if you wake me up, I’ll come after you?”