"I knew it was you, Joyce! You'd better explain yourself right now. What reason do you have for waking me up at this hour of the night?"
As they were talking, there was a rustling sound from the bed behind them. Hunter saw his wife get up, pick up her pillow, and leave the bedroom. He was furious.
"Hmph, if there was nothing wrong, do you think I wouldn't know to rest? Why would I come looking for you at this hour, with that belly of yours that looks like you're ten months pregnant! And look at the crisscrossing wrinkles on your face!"
Joyce rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Shut up, Joyce, or I'm hanging up if you don't get down to business!"
Hunter's roar came from one end of the microphone, and Joyce disdainfully moved the microphone away until Hunter calmed down.
"Duncan from South American Electric broke into Sheffield's hotel room in the middle of the night and was shot out by Sheffield!"
"Who? Sheffield slammed Duncan?"
Hunter jolted awake, becoming much more alert.
"Is the person dead or disabled?"
"He's neither dead nor crippled!"
Joyce almost burst out laughing; old Hunter really knew how to get to the point.
"You're not dead, why are you calling me at this hour?"
Hunter opened his mouth and yawned.
"He's not dead, but Sheffield wants him to suffer a terrible death!"
Joyce stopped hiding her intentions and directly stated Sheffield's purpose.
"Hmph, Sheffield is overthinking it. Joyce, don't you know the power behind Duncan? Give her a call later, and once you've vented your anger, don't hold a grudge."
They've already started shooting people, how else can they vent their anger? Kill them?
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