The Gun Was Mightier Than the Fist

[Part 1: Scheming at Every Turn]

"You bastard! What did you do to Professor Victor?!" Jack Martin roared hoarsely. "Turn him back! Turn him back now!"

In the gloomy cellar, the "doll" in the Collector's hands was still struggling desperately. A shrill, coquettish voice came from the throat of the black-haired beauty—

"—My strength's weaker too, and I can't seem to feel any pain. What kind of black magic is this?"

David Victor's little head had turned nearly 180 degrees. He stared blankly at Jack Martin, unable to make any lively expression.

The boy Jack trembled all over. The doll's eerily pale, lifeless eyes forced him to straighten up.

"Professor Victor?!"

David was both shocked and delighted. "Oh! You can actually twist your head all the way around!"

"Demon!" Jack finally broke free of the ropes.

The three brothers' arms had been bound behind their backs, with them tied together back-to-back. With Victor gone, Jack could just barely regain control of his right hand—

—Jack Martin, furious with rage, pointed at the Collector's nose and shouted.

"Give Professor Victor back to me! Or else—"

The Collector looked at Jack meaningfully. It seemed he'd heard that voice somewhere before, but couldn't remember where.

The Big Leader had never shown his true face, but a voice couldn't be changed. No matter how much he lowered it or altered his tone, the basic timbre of Jack's and the Big Leader's voices wouldn't be all that different.

"Or else what?"

The Collector retorted, his thick fingers slowly brushing over the crown of the black-haired beauty's head—

"—Stop it!~" Jack went pale. He felt his bladder slipping out of his control again.

The Collector continued, "What will happen? Jack Martin, how brave are you?"

His fingers tightened around the doll's arm. Jack Martin's eyes looked