At an underground casino, Drake hung limply in the air.

    His white shirt was soaked in blood, and his body was battered with no part left unscathed.

    A masked man walked in. He raised his hand, and someone put Drake down.

    "Where did you hide it?" demanded the masked man, his voice cold and hoarse.

    Drake looked up. His bloodstained face twisted into a mocking smile. "Take a guess. If you get it right, maybe I''ll tell you."

    The air was immediately charged with tension.

    The masked man held up two identical knives. His deep voice resonated. "I know you''re a fan of gambling. See these two knives? One of them is real, and the other is fake. If the real knife goes in, it''s the end of your life, and if the fake knife goes in, you''ll have a chance to choose again. Want to take a pick now?"

    Drake''s face hardened, and he continued, "You must be familiar with games like this."

    Before Drake could respond, the masked man shoved one of the knives into his left atrium. The knife was fake, so it didn''t prate his flesh.

    "Oops, I forgot your heart is on the right," chuckled the masked man before swiftly plunging the other knife into Drake''s right atrium.

    The de sank deep into his flesh, causing Drake to spite out a mouthful of blood.

    The masked man stepped back. "Don''t worry. It won''t kill you. I''ll just try every kind of torture until you surrender and give me that thing. I''d be happy to have you join the Illuminati."

    Drake looked up and spat, "Dream on."

    The silence in the air stretched for few seconds. The dim firelight in the dungeon flickered eerily, casting a around.

    strange atmosphere the

    "Make him talk. If he doesn''t open up tonight, end him." "Yes, Master."

    The masked man turned to leave but paused at the door.

    Without looking back, he asked his men, "Do you think Debra and Marion could figure out that Drake is locked up in his own casino?"

    Drake''s eyes flickered, and the masked man continued, "If theye, that would be perfect."

    Drake felt a sharp pain in his heart. He was lifted again, only to be dropped into a water tank.

    The intense sensation of suffocation hit him, and for a moment, his vision blurred.

    It took a toll on him, but he had been through worse.

    Fear wasn''t in his dictionary, and he never believed in salvation. He was the master of his own life, and death, to him, was going home.