9. Same Man

Harley stood up from his seat. Stepping out of the special room in his headquarters. He continued walking leisurely until finally right in front of the elevator door he stopped in his tracks. He stretched his fingers over the box machine specially designed for his elevator.

Ting!

The elevator door opened after scanning his hand. Harley came right in.

"Welcome, sir." said an invisible voice as soon as Harley entered. It was certainly the automatic sound of the elevator that had been so wonderfully designed for Harley. Yes. He has his elevator to take him to various places in his headquarters. Not just going down and up like the elevator habit that many people use. Amazing isn't it? Meanwhile, all of his subordinates continue to use the elevator that has been provided at the headquarters without using a password or fingerprint-like his own. He deliberately designed the elevator in such a way as to make it easier for him to go to various places in his headquarters. Even Harry as his right hand never approached let alone wanted to use the elevator. It is enough to know yourself not to interfere in the master's personal affairs.

"Basement."

Without waiting for long the door immediately closed automatically and moved to where the Master wanted.

Ting!

The elevator doors opened again.

"Have a nice day, sir. Thank you for using my services."

Harley didn't respond to the automatic sound of the box engine. He immediately stepped out. And the elevator also closed automatically after Harley's body came out.

Some of his men who served in the basement then saluted their great master. Then returned to their original position after the Master passed them.

"Welcome, Mr. Harley." said the burly man with many tattoos on his body beside his master's desk.

Harley didn't answer. He then sat down in the chair that had become his power. His eyes automatically focused on the man in the middle of the dimly lit room with his hands tied at different sides. Also his battered face.

Harley opened the cap of his wine bottle. Pour a little of the contents into a small clear glass that is already available. Then took a sip. The activity did not escape the gaze of the man in the middle of the room.

Harley directed his gaze to the center of the room. Sure enough, the man was looking at her.

"You want a drink?" said Harley as he showed his empty glass to the man.

The man didn't respond. But his eyes were still focused on Harley.

Harley returned to pour the contents of his wine into the glass. This time more than before. Then stood up from his seat. He stepped closer to the man who was still staring at him intently.

"You guys come out," he ordered all his men as he was right in front of the man. Suddenly all his men immediately came out to hear the orders of their great master.

Harley looked back at the man. He let out a smirk when he saw her battered face.

"It's none of my business. But you can see for yourself she's asking me for help," he said, looking intently at the man.

The man squinted. Who was this man in front of him?

Oh, Harry forgot. He was still wearing his leather mask. He casually took off his leather mask so the man in front of him recognized who he was. He gave her a mocking smile.

"You remember don't you?" asked Harley then.

The man still didn't respond even though he finally knew who the man in front of him was. Yes. He's the guy who helped his lady last night.

"Where, miss?"

Harry smiled crookedly. "After you shot him last night, you're pretending to be looking for him now? It turns out that hypocritical of you." he sneered and walked around the man's bound body.

Without Harley guessing. The man spat carelessly. Even his fingers clenched tightly.

"She's just a barrier girl."

Harley suddenly turned around when the man suddenly said "block girl". Nodding at the man's words. Then glanced his eyes at the window not far from him filled with different weapons that were provided for him. He stepped closer to the window. One hand took one of the new handheld knives. Then he walked back to the man.

"What would you do?" asked the man who was now glancing at the handheld knife in Harley's hand.

"Just having a little fun," he answered nonchalantly and then slashed the tip of his knife against the man's bruised cheek.

The man held back the pain in his bruised cheek. After all, he couldn't possibly scream for help and would get help from others considering that this was the headquarters of the man in front of him. It would also look disgusting for a grown man like him.

Harley smiled at the results of his hands. He glanced briefly at his wine glass then pointed it under the man's bloody chin. Two drops of fresh blood fell in his glass. Instantly the wine immediately changed color to a slightly darker color.

"The color is more interesting plus your blood, brother," said Harley looking at his glass.

The man stared intently. "What do you want?"

Harley looked back at the man. Then smiled mockingly. "I don't want anything from you. Because I know you're not as rich as I am," he said proudly. But it's true, there is no one richer than him in his country. Even successful presidents and businessmen can't compete with his wealth.

"Then?" the man asked again. One eyebrow raised.

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he pointed the knife at the other man's cheek.

Sreeeeet

One long scratch on his left cheek. He was still holding back the pain in his cheeks. He already said he was a grown man. There was no way a scream or a plea for help from another person could escape his lips.

Harley glanced at the wine glass that had been in his hand. Then without warning, he poured the contents of the glass into the man's bloody face. While the man bit his lower lip, he felt a very real pain on his face.

"You crazy psychopath!" he cursed.

Harry chuckled. "It would be more fun if I took two of your eyeballs, Brother," he said tilting his face with a hideous grin. "Then I cut off one earlobe. I stabbed your nose with a heated iron. I could even cut your bird too. And lastly... I'll cut your heart out of shape. Is that what you want from this crazy psychopath?"

The man didn't answer. But the look in his eyes did not leave Harley.

"If you want, I will accept you as one of my men," said Harley who was now walking back to his desk. He sat down in a swivel chair and opened the drawer beside him.

It gleamed in the reflected light above. Harley then took it and closed the drawer again. The activity did not escape the gaze of the man in the middle of the room.

"Your shot yesterday was good enough to prove that you're also suitable to be my subordinate. But I'm not forcing you." Harley paused. "If you want, I will fulfill all your wishes. But if you don't, I don't care even if you die."

The man fell silent. If he accepts Harley's offer by becoming his subordinate, it means he has betrayed his uncle. It also slapped his pride as his uncle's confidant from the past until now. But if he returns to his uncle, he is also not sure that he will survive his uncle's wrath because he is incompetent to kill the girl. On the other hand, his heart did not want to see the girl hurt. But what can you do? He couldn't be fooled by her for all his uncle's ambitions.

The man closed his eyes deeply. "I wouldn't choose either," he said then.

Harley glared at the man. What does it mean?

"But kill me because I accept your offer on one condition."

Harley raised an eyebrow. He was still waiting for the man to finish his sentence.

"Take care of Zoa. It's not only me who wants her dead. But all of her stepfather's subordinates who are none other than my uncle are also after her."

Harley is still in position. Shut up and keep waiting for the man to finish his sentence.

"He is a hindrance to all my uncle's ambitions. Transferring the name of all the wealth he has in my uncle's name is uncle's ambition from long ago. But so far it has not succeeded if Zoa is still alive. Therefore, my uncle desperately pursued his life when he was outside the house Because if his wife finds out he did that to his favorite stepdaughter. Maybe my uncle has been dumped long ago."

"Where are his real parents?"

"Gone."