She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 395

Inside the abandoned factory.

Holt was brutally pinned down against a freezing metal chair, his mouth duct-taped shut. His eyes burned with a mixture of humiliation and rage.

"Let me go! Whatever they're paying you, I'll double it!"

A man dressed like a laborer spoke in a thick provincial accent that sounded disturbingly familiar to Holt. "We pride ourselves on our integrity in this line of work. Who told you to cross people you shouldn't? You blocked a lovely couple's path to happiness."

A heavyset thug next to him patted Holt's face, his eyes gleaming with sick excitement. "Poisoning him mute and selling him off to the lawless zone definitely pays better than trafficking kids! Look at this face, he's a celebrity too. Plenty of big shots love to play with pretty boys like this!"

The faces of the men were twisted with undisguised malice and the thrill of impending victory. "Hurry up and do it."

The heavyset man unscrewed a glass bottle, and the pungent, stinging reek of powerful acid instantly flooded the air.

Holt's pupils contracted violently. He thrashed wildly, the chair legs screeching against the concrete floor. Two thugs held him down with all their might, forcing his head back to expose his vulnerable throat to the deadly liquid in Finn's hand.

"Hold him down! Don't let him move!" the men roared in excitement. The bottle tilted, and the corrosive acid was just about to pour down—

"BOOM—!!!"

An earth-shattering crash echoed through the building. The entire factory seemed to quake. The heavy iron door was violently caved inward by a terrifyingly explosive force from the outside, the metal panels and part of the frame blasting straight off their hinges.

A heavy motorcycle charged in like a mechanical beast, barreling with pinpoint precision straight toward the thugs surrounding Holt.

"Shit!" The heavyset man was scared out of his mind. The bottle of acid flew from his grip, and he was violently launched backward by the massive impact. He crashed into a corner pile of junk like a broken ragdoll, letting out an agonizing wail accompanied by the sickening crunch of shattered bones.

After sending one man flying, the motorcycle executed a heart-stopping drift, coming to a perfect halt less than a meter away from Holt. The engine still roared with a low, predatory growl.

Loyce suddenly thought of Zelie. During that brief moment of distraction, four burly thugs clutching steel pipes and machetes charged in from outside, lunging at her with murderous intent.

They were clearly more professional than the first two—their eyes were vicious, their movements viciously fast.

Loyce's expression didn't so much as ripple. The instant the first thug's steel pipe swung toward her skull, whistling through the air, she leaned back with impossible flexibility to dodge it. Simultaneously, her slender leg snapped out like a viper, delivering a brutal, precision kick right to his armed wrist!

*Crack!* The sharp sound of a shattering wrist bone rang clear. The steel pipe flew from his grasp as the thug stumbled back screaming.

The second thug slashed his machete horizontally at her waist. Loyce planted one hand on her motorcycle's handlebar, vaulting her body into the air. Her other leg swung down like a battleaxe, slamming viciously into the man's weapon-bearing shoulder!

The immense force drew a pained grunt from the thug as he was driven to his knees, his machete clattering to the floor...