Valan just stood there and watched them fooling around.
When everything was over, the girl dragged her tired body away, and the man picked up the bathrobe on the ground and put it on.
He stood up and turned around, revealing a pair of stern and handsome faces. Although he was nearly sixty, his face showed few signs of aging. Coupled with his self-discipline, his figure and mental outlook were that of a man in his forties.
Narrowing his gray-blue eyes, Edward poured a glass of wine and handed it to Alan.
Valan caught the wine with both hands but did not dare to drink it.
"I heard that your mission failed this time?" Edward's face was expressionless, but Valanciunas's hand, gripping the wine glass, was trembling slightly. He nodded slightly and hummed, "I'm sorry, father. It's my fault."
Edward asked: "Why did you fail!"
Valan was silent for a moment before he said, "Lone Wolf, it's Hof."
"That little bastard!" Edward snorted coldly. He took the wine from Valan's hand and placed it on the table. Touching the rim of the glass, Edward suddenly turned around, raised the gun in his hand, and shot Valan!
The bullet penetrated the abdomen and tore Valjean's intestines.
Arjan immediately knelt down, not daring to say a word or even cover the wound with his hands.
Edward walked over with the whiskey in his hand and poured it directly onto Valan's wound. The wound was washed away by the wine, and the piercing pain was suffocating.
Valan's face was distorted with pain, his forehead was covered with sweat, and his face was as pale as a dead person in a coffin at the funeral home. But he still apologized respectfully: "...I'm sorry, it's my incompetence."
"waste!"
Edward lifted his foot, stepped over the pool of blood on the ground, and walked away.
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