Chapter 603

Harold did not love his wife or his children.

His inability to feel affection left him lonely and empty.

Harold had once worked tirelessly, hoping to take the family business to new heights.

But there had been no need.

With all the connections, information, talent, and other resources available to a powerful family, no one had to work tirelessly. Money flowed in like water from a tap.

That was how the world worked: it was easier for the rich to make money.

In the end,

Harold, like many wealthy heirs, lost himself in the illusions brought on by drugs.

Then one day, someone handed him a black business card. On one side was a white skull, its hollow eye sockets crawling with maggots.

On the other side was only a phone number.

The man told Harold that his name was Xila. He was a merchant who sold unusual things, such as pain, torture, and murder.

Xila blindfolded Harold and led him into a room.

It was dark, damp, and empty.

A middle-aged man stood inside. He was haggard and thin, with fear hidden behind the numbness in his eyes.

Xila said the man was terminally ill and had volunteered to be killed in exchange for money for his family.

His price was... 20,000 beli.

Unimaginably cheap.

Xila handed Harold a loaded revolver.

"Enjoy yourself."

Xila bowed gracefully and left with a smile.

Harold gripped the revolver, hesitating until his palm grew slick with sweat.

He pressed the barrel to the man's temple.

Bang!

Red blood and white brain matter splashed across Harold's face. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound.

"Ha, hahaha..."

His shock gradually turned into deranged laughter.

After that, Harold bought "death" from Xila every so often.

About a year later, Harold was no