CHAPTER 125: CHAPTER 125: AIDEN FORDHAM, ONLY 29 DAYS LEFT TO LIVE

"Get out!"

He was so angry he was about to explode, his chest heaved violently, and his roar made the air buzz.

Stella Grant looked at his furious demeanor, yet her expression remained calm and collected.

She gently added, "I know Mr. West is injured right now, it’s inconvenient."

"I’ll wait until your injuries are healed, and then repay the favor."

After speaking, she quietly turned and gracefully walked out.

At this moment, Aiden Fordham’s face was as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Filled with rage!

She... she was actually going to sacrifice herself for that so-called "Mr. West"?

Damn!

She even wanted to marry that man? Is she insane?

No!

He’s the one going insane!

This woman, does she even know what she’s doing!

Outside the door.

Stella Grant gently closed the door, shutting out the fiery gaze from inside.

Leaning against the door, she couldn’t help but let out a wide smile.

Seeing Aiden Fordham’s discomfited yet furious expression, she was immensely delighted.

Hmph.

Who asked him to deceive her for so long under the guise of "Mr. West"?

Serves him right!

...

At the West Dock, the abandoned warehouse was dark and damp.

Vivi Sterling curled up in the corner of a cold iron cage, starving for two days and nights, unable to stop her body from trembling.

Her forehead was hot, and the high fever made her vision start to blur.

She felt like she was about to die.

Soon, she was dragged out and tied to a wooden frame, rough ropes bit into her flesh, and every inch of her skin screamed with pain.

Below the wooden frame, piles of firewood emitted a strong gasoline smell that was nauseating.

Her head hung weakly, cold sweat mixed with tears running down.

Winston Strickland held a cigar between his teeth, playing with a long, dark whip in his hand as he leisurely sauntered over.

Behind him were over two hundred henchmen, each wielding clubs and machetes, looking menacing.

"Brothers!" Winston Strickland breathed out a smoke ring, his voice wild, "That kid Zane Zimmerman is already headed this way!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, carrying a fierce determination.

"Today, we must take Zane Zimmerman’s head! Reclaim The East Sector! From now on, I’ll lead the brothers to wealth and luxury, endless riches and glory!"

"Winston, mighty!"

"Winston, mighty!"

The henchmen were incited to boiling enthusiasm, raising their weapons and shouting arrogantly.

Winston Strickland walked up to Vivi Sterling with a cruel smile.

"Little girl, see for yourself."

With the tip of his whip, he lifted her chin, his eyes mocking.

"Today, if Zane Zimmerman and Tyson Sterling don’t come to save you, it’s your doom."

"Don’t blame me for being ruthless, blame your affiliation with the Sterling Family!"

After saying that, he raised his arms, and the long whip swung down with a howl.

"Snap!"

The first lash landed on her arm, splitting the skin open.

Vivi Sterling trembled in pain, biting her lower lip firmly, the taste of blood filling her mouth.

"Snap!"

The second lash struck her leg, her dress instantly stained with fresh blood.

She still remained silent.

"Snap!"

The third lash was even fiercer, bright red blood continuously seeping out, staining her pale dress, strikingly brutal.

She clenched her teeth, refusing to make a sound under stubborn pride, only rapid breaths exposing her agony.

Suddenly—

"Bang!"

A muffled gunshot cut through the night sky.

Winston Strickland’s right wrist exploded with a burst of blood, the whip flying from his hand.

"Ah—!" He let out a shrill scream, his features contorted in pain, clutching his wrist as he squatted down.

The situation abruptly changed.

"Swish swish swish!"

Six black SUVs roared like beasts of the night, their headlights glaring in unison towards them, encircling Winston Strickland and his subordinates.

The light was too strong, and Vivi Sterling instinctively squinted.

A deep, chilling voice devoid of warmth pierced through the tumult, distinctly resonating.

"You dare touch my woman?" a fierce voice resounded, carrying overwhelming pressure.

Vivi Sterling struggled to lift her heavy eyelids, glimpsing through her teary eyes a tall figure approaching against the light.

The man’s face was covered by a silver mask of metallic sheen, exuding an aura of Hell’s Asura.

Zane Zimmerman had arrived!

Winston Strickland looked at the bodyguards behind Zane, each dressed in black combat gear, holding sophisticated weapons, moving in uniform precision, with cold, harsh expressions.

Their trained, professional demeanor was incomparable to his ragtag group.

He suppressed the agony in his wrist, his earlier arrogance wiped clean, forcing a smile uglier than crying.

"Hawk... Hawk, why have you come? It’s a misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding!"

His eyes darted, pointing to Vivi Sterling tied on the wooden frame, hurriedly explaining.

"Hawk, look, this woman, she’s Tyson Sterling’s own sister!"

"Back then, that Sterling bastard almost killed you! I set up this trap today to draw him out and avenge you, Hawk!"

He attempted to smear Tyson Sterling, keeping himself untouched.

As soon as the words fell—

"Vroom—Vroom Vroom—"

The violent roar of a motorcycle engine approached from afar, like a sudden clap of thunder on a clear day.

A swift shadow tore through the night, piercing the crowd like a sharp sword, bringing with it a strong gust of wind.

"Screech—" the sound of a harsh brake.

A tall man in tight black combat attire stopped steadily just under three meters before Winston Strickland.

The man wore a grim black demon mask, with only his sharp, hawk-like eyes visible, gleaming with a chillingly cold light, locking onto Winston Strickland.

His powerful aura instantly dominated the scene. He slightly parted his lips, his voice icy and bone-chilling.

"I am here."

Winston Strickland was so frightened by this abrupt change that he staggered back repeatedly, collapsing onto the ground, his face as pale as paper, pointing at the masked man, his voice trembling.

"You... you are... Tyson Sterling?"

He suddenly turned to Zane Zimmerman, like grabbing the last straw saving his life, "Hawk! That’s Tyson Sterling! He’s here! Quick! Quickly take him down!"

Vivi Sterling struggled to open her bloodshot eyes, desperately wanting to see the man wearing the black mask.

Though she couldn’t see his face clearly, that familiar figure, that steady mountain-like aura...

It’s my brother!

It really is my brother!

Her heart trembled fiercely, as a profound mix of sorrow and joy surged in her heart.

"Brother..." She used all her strength to utter a weak, almost inaudible call, tears bursting forth uncontrollably.

Zane Zimmerman and Tyson Sterling, one with a silver mask, the other black, stood like two death-dealing gods, merely three meters apart.

The air seemed to solidify.

The next second, they moved! Fast as lightning, their movements blurred!

Target, Winston Strickland!

The two, as if telepathically connected, struck simultaneously. Their swift, fierce punches and kicks whipped through the air, mercilessly impacting Winston Strickland.

"Bang! Bang! Crack!" The sound of bones breaking was clear.

Winston Strickland didn’t even have time to scream. He was battered like a tattered sandbag, utterly unable to retaliate.

In less than ten seconds.

The once arrogant Winston Strickland lay limp on the ground, like a pile of mud, barely breathing.

The over two hundred underlings around them were dumbstruck, scared out of their wits, their hands trembling on their weapons, retreating step by step, afraid they would be next to be targeted.

This wasn’t a fight; it was a one-sided slaughter, terrifying beyond measure!

Zane Zimmerman stepped forward, effortlessly lifted the barely conscious Winston Strickland like a chick and tossed him onto the woodpile on the high platform.

Meanwhile, Tyson Sterling leaped up like a leopard, landing steadily on the platform.

He gently untied the ropes binding Vivi Sterling, picking up her frail, bloodied body in his arms, then leapt down smoothly.

Vivi Sterling nestled in his solid and warm embrace, trembling all over.

She didn’t know if it was due to the cold from excessive blood loss or the excitement of being rescued.

"Brother... Brother..." she murmured continuously, tears uncontrollably slipping from the corners of her eyes, falling onto his black combat attire.

She couldn’t see the expression beneath the man’s mask, only the glint in his deep eyes, as if something was glimmering.

He lowered his head, his voice hoarse with suppression, softly calling, "Little girl, I’m here!"

With his ungloved fingers, he gently brushed away the sweat-soaked bangs on her forehead, his actions unbelievably tender.

"Does it hurt?"

"It hurts! It hurts so much!" Hiding in his arms, she wept freely, seizing the fabric over his chest hard, as though clutching onto the last thread of hope.

"I’m sorry for involving you in this." Tyson Sterling’s voice was filled with deep guilt and self-blame, though the mask concealed all his expressions.

Holding her, he walked step by step toward Zane Zimmerman.

Vivi Sterling instantly tensed up, looking timidly at the silver-masked man exuding an unapproachable aura.

"Zane Zimmerman... I beg you... please don’t harm my brother..." Her voice carried a tearful plea.

Zane Zimmerman said nothing, gazing at her deeply.

Tyson Sterling gave his sister a deep look, then carefully handed her over to Zane Zimmerman.

Zane Zimmerman reached out, steadily taking over her weakened body.

The two tall masked men stood silently, one in black, the other silver.

An exchange, a handover.

It was like some sacred transfer ritual, the atmosphere solemn. Later, Vivi Sterling would understand what that handover meant, serious and tragic... Brother couldn’t come back!

Tyson Sterling slid a blood-red agate bracelet, as though it was dripping, from his wrist and gently placed it on Vivi Sterling’s wrist.

The icy agate touched her burning skin.

He gave her one last deep look, then resolutely turned away, striding towards the heavy motorcycle.

Without a hint of reluctance.

"Brother! Brother—!"

Vivi Sterling cried out heart-wrenchingly in his arms, reaching out to grab him, but only grasped at emptiness.

Darkness engulfed her vision, and she fainted completely.

Zane Zimmerman, holding the unconscious Vivi Sterling, glanced icily at Winston Strickland on the woodpile.

He just slightly turned his head, giving a signal with his eyes.

His deputy immediately understood, taking out a metal lighter, igniting it with a "clack" and casually tossing it onto the woodpile soaked in gasoline.

"Whoosh—"

Flames roared up instantly, spreading rapidly, illuminating the entire dock as bright as day.

Soon after, the woodpile resounded with Winston Strickland’s blood-curdling screams, sending chills down everyone’s spine.

"I’ll take her to Skylake Peak for healing," Zane Zimmerman said to his deputy, as he left with Vivi Sterling in his arms.

As for Winston Strickland’s remaining ragtag group, they were all herded onto a truck by Zane Zimmerman’s deputy, headed for a remote, closed farm where endless labor awaited.

From then on, the last credible gang power in Mardale crumbled!

Another blood-red sunset appeared over Skylake Peak.

Aiden Fordham slept for half a day before slowly waking up.

He got up slowly, walked into the bathroom, inadvertently catching sight of the area on his back where he had been injected, a large patch of ominous black, strikingly evident.

He tried hard to calm the unease in his heart, and suddenly, a cough erupted, spitting out a mouthful of black blood that landed in the jade-white basin, resembling a sinister yet noble black mandala flower!

Then, blood from his nose dripped like a broken string of pearls...

He didn’t know that his life was reduced to only 29 days!

He also didn’t know that Stella Grant would get pregnant again with his child...