Angie was used to seeing wars and people getting killed. When she was abroad, it was not uncommon to encounter terrorists, so she was not afraid of Eric's threat.
She just touched his pet peeve, so he was merely throwing a little tantrum.
Angie could understand.
When she came to her senses, she reached out and yanked Eric's collar in her direction.
Her face was also very defiant.
She said in a hoarse and quiet voice, "Eric, I’m not joking with you. Do you want to talk to him on the phone?"
Looking at Eric's cold face, Angie reached out and took her phone from the side.
She then dialed a number. An unfamiliar male voice spoke.
"Miss, what's the order?”
"Is he still alive?"
"Yes."
Angie looked at Eric and hooked her lips. "Let him answer the call."
In the next second, a trembling, fearful voice came from the phone.
"Help! Eric, it's me, Dad. Help me! I’m Charles Ferguson! No matter how much money they want, don't bargain with them. Hurry up and let me out! I'm sick again, and there's a war going on here..."
Charles Ferguson's voice was extremely wretched and devoid of its usual steadiness.
Eric narrowed his sharp eyes.
The point of this call was that Charles Ferguson was not in Mediania.
The next second, Angie hung up the phone.
The two of them looked at each other. Angie's meaningful smile deepened.
Angie let go of Eric, curled her lips into a cold smile, and slowly pushed Eric away to put on her clothes.
"Mr. Ferguson, from now on, the relationship between us is up to me."
Angie was most adept at getting the upper hand, whether it be by coercion or sophistry.
The knock on the door was rushed and persistent.
Eric walked over and opened the door. His face was gloomy and frightening.
The people at the door were instantly shocked for a moment.
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