Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1823

Chapter 1823: One-man rescue team

Meanwhile...

Slater followed the people dragging the hostages without care out of the underground prison. His mouth was pressed into a thin line as he watched from the side.

"Ugh—" Walter was dragged out, forced to walk even when it was obvious he couldn’t.

"Get up!" the soldier dragging him shouted. He tugged Walter’s injured arm, making the latter wince and sweat profusely. "Get going! Get the rest! The madam is waiting!"

With that, more soldiers dragged out more hostages. There were quite a few soldiers, expecting to carry all these hostages out. But as they busied themselves, Walter took a peek at Slater.

Slater discreetly nodded at him, and Walter nodded back.

"Ugh..." Walter forced himself to go. Even in pain, he didn’t let that hinder their plan. freёwebnoѵel.com

After all, Slater’s plan was risky, but in its own way, it was genius.

Their dilemma was that they couldn’t sneak out, mainly because of their injuries from all the torture they had endured throughout their captivity. But Slater convinced them that all of them would get out if they wanted to.

Who wouldn’t want to leave this place?

They might die in the process, but it would be the same if they stayed. They might as well die fighting until the end.

And so, they agreed to Slater’s plan.

According to Slater, Nathalie would take these hostages somewhere tonight. Maybe to their burial site or somewhere else. Either way, that was the point. If Nathalie wanted to transport them, then they might as well use that to help all of them get out of this damn prison.

And once they were being transported, Slater would hijack it and take them all somewhere.

Plain and simple.

Hence, here they were, enduring this forceful dragging, as this was their only way to get out.

The soldiers first carried out those most heavily injured, either carrying them or just throwing them onto stretchers. Those they could force to get up were dragged out without care for their pain. All they cared about was getting this done and over with.

"What the—" Suddenly, the soldier harrumphed at the kid he was yanking out of the cell. He glared at the kid, his gaze falling on the kid’s dirty feet and the liquid trickling down the side of his leg.

The man’s face twisted, fuming angrily. "This little rat peed on my—"

Just as the man raised his hand to slap the kid, merely because urine splashed on the side of his shoes, a hand grabbed his arm. He stopped, turning his head.

His mouth curved down. "What are you doing?"

"The madam is waiting," Slater breathed out, his eyes sharp at the soldier. "It’s just urine. Blood is harder to clean."

The man and Slater held each other’s gaze for a brief silence. After another breath, the man clicked his tongue and pulled his arm away from him.

"You better remember this, rookie," the man warned. "Once this is over, I’ll look for you."

He then glared at the child and then at the rest. "All of you, get out now!"

After saying that, he turned and walked away, checking the others. Meanwhile, the children from the cell quietly and timidly walked out. The other child, who was almost hit if not for Slater, looked up at him.

Slater offered him a smile and a slight nod. The child pressed his mouth into a thin line, joining the line of children following the men. Although most of the children weren’t injured, there was clear malnourishment.

Slowly, the once-packed cells were now left with only a few people inside.

Slater glanced at the cells, scanning the bodies that were left behind. Those they left behind weren’t even dead, except for two people. (The two guards he had shot down) The rest were just considered dead because they were, in a way, dying.

"I’ll try to come back as soon as I can," he whispered, lowering his head. "Hold on for a while."

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