General Zaroff The Most Dangerous Game Novels & Stories

The entire cabin fell silent. Killian's gaze fell to my leg, his expression turning ugly. "I bet my birthright as heir to the Russo family. I bet all my future assets." I met his gaze, stepping out from the shadows of the gambling table. "We won't bet on luck. We'll bet on marksmanship." I pointed to the far end of the yacht's deck, at a playing card fluttering in the wind fifty meters away. "One shot each. If you win, I'll jump from here. My life will be yours."

He faced me directly and extended his hand, “My name is Gerald Holt, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I didn’t shake hands with him. I knew exactly what Gerald was. He had been Victor’s hunting dog for years and the number of crimes he had committed and covered up were uncountable. This was my first time seeing him up-close. He was a rough looking man with a scar on his neck. He was tall and hefty and he gave off a gangster vibe. Surprisingly, he had great dentition. If he had bad teeth due to tobacco, he might have been able to intimidate his opponents better. “What are you doing here?” Zara asked in a tensed tone.

Immediately, he realized something, and immediately changed his mouth: "Hmph, it's just that the blind cat bumped into a dead mouse, and he got by deceiving people and fooling people, anyone can do this!" Those bodyguards who had experienced the dangers of the Lighthouse Country all showed dissatisfied expressions when they heard Joeren's words. They were able to escape in a life-and-death crisis, but it wasn't just a blind cat that ran into a dead mouse. You must know that before this, the tattooed killers had never missed, how unseen was Joeren, so he would say that escaping in their hands was a fool? The sudden reversal made everyone around look different. Mr. Zorion, who originally had a

He turned sharply, marched back, and grabbed my arm, pulling us into the hall where no one else could hear. “How dangerous can it be?” he repeated, arching a brow. “Osborn, when you’re dealing with the underground world, everything is dangerous. These people are manipulative, selfish, and constantly trying to outdo one another. That's why they have so many enemies—and why they need bodyguards. You never know what might happen, even on a so-called protection job.”

"After eight months of making you all see this my way, you still doubt it? I thought we were just coming here to finalize not–" “You move product through ports that attract heat," Mateo cut me off, pulling the cigar from between his lips. "We don’t need that kind of attention.” “You already have it,” I replied coolly. “You’re just pretending you don’t.” Daniel scoffed, his fingers tapping on the table with impatience. “You’re younger. Ambitious. You're no new person to us, Enricho. You're a dangerous man. Why should we bind ourselves to someone who might drag us into wars we didn’t start?”

I was fifth, which wasn’t bad considering I’d only been in the game for six years. He also had a natural advantage; he was a man in a world that still thought women couldn’t pull a trigger without crying about it. But if we were talking merit? I’d be top three. I’d never missed a mark. Not once. "Rave, please think this through," he said, leaning back against the driver’s seat with a sigh that sounded more like defeat. "This guy isn’t like the suits you usually put down for cash. He’s not some banker screwing his secretary or a wannabe thug flashing a Glock to feel untouchable. Dominic Sokolov is the fucking Mafia King. The most dangerous one to ever crawl out of the underworld. He’s bad new

Freyana said. Tari rolled her eyes. "The remaining four are Butcher, the drug addict — that guy is crazy and unpredictable. Avoid him. Jackie, he is the friendly but deadly one, he will lead you into your grave without you knowing until you are buried. Avoid him too. Zero. That one is a no-go area, that guy is cold as ice, he is even worse than Frost. Just like his name, Zero is a total zero — he never smiles, doesn't drink, nor does he smoke. He is the wicked and most devilish one of them. Avoid him with everything in you; in fact, if you see him coming, take the other lane," Freyana spat, her eyes narrowing with despair at each word.

“Whatever. Put the gun down. All the noise we just made in the back of your lot is gonna bring down every cop in a hundred-mile radius on this place. And the only person they’ll find here, not counting the zombie corpses and your cousin Roo, is you. Which means they’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks. Cops. Against you—one angry black guy with a shotgun. Now, I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I’d bet on them not buying your story about two guys smashing Civil War zombies with your cousin’s Ford pickup.” “You did that,” muttered Fernández. “I was shooting the undead guys.” Sirens sounded in the distance. A distant whump-whump of helicopter blades grew closer, too. “Dead bodies every

"Are you trying to say that General Gerald is trying to use us?" Chike said to Zara'm as he holds the iron cage. "Am hundred percent sure about that, he is a liar, he is trying to use both of you" Zara'm responded to them. "How sure are you?" Ike asked. "Are you still asking me how sure I am? wouldn't you use my condition now to find out that what am saying is true" Zara'm replied

“You look like you’re in a great mood.” “Of course, I ran into an interesting prey.” “Callen.” When Zach heard what the man on the sofa said, he put down the documents in his hand and looked at the other party. He said solemnly, “Just stop this. Nothing is interesting about this.” “No, Zach. Don’t you know that hunting is an elegant sport?” “If hunting is really that interesting, then why do you keep changing your prey year after year?” Callen lifted his finger and wagged them. “No, no, no. The fun part of the hunt is the process of slowly hunting the prey. I’m enjoying the process. Process, do you understand, my dear Zach?”