They began planting explosives in different spots of the black market, including the club where Robles was. Agustin attached the bomb to the waiter’s body. The waiter’s eyes bulged, struggling, but too much blood had been lost and his body was weakening. “This is your payment for almost killing my cousin. That young man is a Knight. He’s my most trusted man,” Agustin whispered, clenching his fist, then punched the waiter’s gut hard, making him vomit blood. He pulled out a handkerchief and stuffed it into the waiter’s mouth. Then, after that, he set the timer for 5 minutes, took the man’s phone, and dialed the number in the call history. A moment later, the owner of the number answered. (“Marquez! Where are you? I have an order for you to find the sniper!”) Agustin grinned when he heard Gino Robles’ voice and turned to the weakening waiter. “It’s finally time to hear you, President Gino Robles.” He smirked, sat dow
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