"Yes, sir," Felix replied, signaling the men.
One of the men immediately picked up a solid steel baseball bat and walked up to Steve.
With dead eyes and zero hesitation, he raised the bat and swung it viciously straight at Steve's mouth.
A sickening *thud* echoed.
Steve let out a muffled shriek of sheer agony, his body violently thrashing, but he was pinned down so hard he couldn't move.
*Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!* The wet, heavy blows rang out repeatedly in the empty warehouse.
The men showed zero mercy, taking turns swinging the steel bat relentlessly at Steve's face.
Every single strike was delivered with maximum force.
Steve's mouth swelled massively within seconds, blood pouring down his chin and staining his clothes.
He thrashed desperately, whimpering pathetically, his eyes wide with utter terror and pleas for mercy, but it was completely useless.
Pierce kept his back turned, hands clasped behind him. The frosty aura around him only thickened. No matter how much Steve begged, Pierce never looked back, not a single muscle twitching on his face.
After what felt like an eternity, Steve's struggles grew weaker, his screams turning into wet, incoherent gurgles. Blood kept streaming from his lips, pooling heavily on the concrete floor.
Felix stepped up, took a close look at Steve's ruined mouth, and reported, "Mr. Prescott, his teeth should all be gone by now."

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