Henry Clark could discern the utter lack of emotion and the cold cruelty in his voice, immediately labeling him as extremely dangerous in his mind. He took a small step back, carefully listening to his footsteps.

John Baker did not continue forward, but instead looked at the few people on the ground who were slowly waking up with a strange expression, as if he were looking down at seedlings in his own wheat field, full of twisted expectation and greed.

Including Henry Clark, there were five people who had originally been lying on the ground. As they slowly regained consciousness, some began cursing hysterically, some frowned as they looked around, some stood silently in the corner without speaking, and one, with a big belly, pointed at John Baker and said, “Which unit are you from?”

“Oh... a leader, are you?” John Baker grinned oddly. “I like leaders the most.”

He casually grabbed the guy who kept spewing filth from his mouth, slapped him twice loudly, and the man’s face immediately swelled and bruised. John Baker then tossed him onto the ground to the side.

“Now that you’re all awake, I don’t have to repeat myself over and over.” John Baker sneered. “Anyone else feeling hot-blooded and wanting to show off how tough they are? I don’t mind helping them with their bones—like this one here…”

He lifted his foot and stomped heavily on the head of the cursing man. “I love troublemakers the most, especially idiots like you who don’t know what’s good for them and can’t stop spewing crap.”

The young man under his foot rolled his eyes back, making strange noises in his throat, already half-unconscious.

“Next, introductions. Hmm, let’s start with the leader.” John Baker suddenly pointed at the fat middle-aged man. “Yes, you.”

Finally realizing the man before him was no good, he hesitated and looked around. Once he understood his situation, he immediately changed his expression, smiling obsequiously. “Brother, you’re from the underworld, right? You’ve got the wrong guy, really. I have fifty thousand yuan here, let me treat you to tea…”

John Baker impatiently lowered his head, somehow producing a pistol, quickly chambered a round, aimed at the chattering middle-aged man’s feet, and pulled the trigger.

The sudden gunshot made everyone flinch. Henry Clark nervously touched his side, where not long ago there had been a hole.

“I hate being nagged the most! If I tell you to introduce yourself, do it quickly! Name, age, occupation, specialty!” John Baker frowned, his expression violent. “Do you need me to teach you? Do you?!”

“No, no! Brother, calm…” The fat middle-aged man saw John Baker’s impatience growing and immediately stopped rambling. “James Thompson, 35, Dep... Deputy Director of the Bureau of Industry and Commerce, specialty…”

“Forget it, you probably don’t have any specialties.” John Baker impatiently waved the gun. “Go stand over there! Next.”

The gun turned to the middle-aged man who had been looking around after waking up. “You!”

The thin middle-aged man grew nervous, stammering, “Samuel Harris, 33, accountant, I’m good at bookkeeping.”

“You don’t look like you’ll amount to much either, forget it.” John Baker looked at Henry Clark. “That guy with blood on his clothes, looks like a murderer—your turn.”

Henry Clark’s hand trembled as he felt his clothes, and sure enough, he found a large damp patch. He brought his fingers to his nose and sniffed. To others, it looked like a killer savoring the scent of blood.

“Me?” Henry Clark touched his face, realizing his sunglasses were gone at some point. Facing the direction of the voice, he said, “Henry Clark, 23, my occupation is hard to say, no special skills…”

“Hey, buddy.” John Baker tilted his head at him, eyes curious. “Lift your eyes for a second.”

After a pause, Henry Clark gave a bitter smile and raised his head. “No need to look, I’m blind.”

“Hey! Andy Clark, come look, a blind guy! It’s my first time seeing a blind person in the infinite space!” John Baker acted as if he’d seen something hilarious, laughing loudly and pointing at him in mockery. “I was wondering why you seemed so odd. Hello, blind brother~”

Henry Clark’s hand, hidden behind his back, clenched suddenly. His fingers, gripping the wall, dug into the cracks between the bricks. He remained silent, his lifeless eyes unmoved. He was already used to this kind of ridicule.

“Ugh, boring.” John Baker seemed to be hoping for a reaction from Henry Clark, but when none came, he turned away in disappointment, about to say something when he was suddenly interrupted by the muscular man called Andy Carter.

“John Baker, have you had enough?” The muscular man suddenly stood up, his eyes angry. “Besides mocking and bullying newcomers, are you good for anything else?”

John Baker’s expression changed, and he looked at him provocatively. “Still better than a little kid crying under the tyrant’s tongue, right? Isn’t that so, William Carter little buddy~”

He dragged out the words strangely, making a clucking sound like a chicken.

William Carter’s muscles trembled as he gritted his teeth, clearly furious.

“All right, all right, let me handle this, okay?” The middle-aged man who had been smoothing things over stepped between the two, trying to mediate.