Novel & Cerita Mister Pit

She took a flamethrower to everything I had built and smiled while it burned. My spare phone buzzed on the desk, it was an unknown number. I answered anyway. A distorted voice came through, calm and cold. “Mr. Pritchett. We understand you’re having some… difficulties. We specialize in solving problems like yours, permanently.” I froze. “Who is this?” “The kind of people who make inconvenient witnesses disappear. For the right price. Your wife has become very inconvenient.” My mouth went dry. “You’re offering…?” “We’re offering options. Think about it. We’ll be in touch.”

Inner Devil: 'Look at this manager. His hairline’s retreating faster than his customer service.' Inner Devil 2: 'Someone get this man a helmet. He just poked a dragon with a toothpick.' “You’re standing on the edge of unemployment,” Kenneth said, voice low and icy. “I paid half a million dollars for this honeymoon, and this is the service you’re proud of? Keep talking and you’ll be demoted so fast you’ll be unclogging sewage lines with a plastic fork. And that’s if I’m feeling merciful.”

he told the person on the other end and then hung up "Your new friend has just arrived." "Who, Corey?" "Is that his name?" He shook his head "If you ask me, he looks too young for you. What do you want with him anyway?" The man at the door scoffed "As if you don't know her. The idiot is either rich or a good fuck" "Is that it, Natty?"

Mister White muttered in disbelief. Mason interrupted him immediately. "How dare you?!" He got up and slapped Mister White in the face. "Do you know who this is? He's Mister Wolf! How dare you call him a brat? Kneel and apologize! Beg for Mister Wolf's forgiveness!" Sensing how furious Mason was, Mister White shivered and kneeled. "Mis- Mister Wolf, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you..." The crowd was stunned as they thought to themselves, 'Who's this kid to intimidate the Descending Tiger to such an extent?! It's just unbelievable!'

"I saw a guy who looked like Mr. Harold at the food vendors! That's crazy! What a mirage! I thought he looked at me! Then I looked back, the figure was at the portal of this complex and now... because of the bright lighting right on his face, I can be sure that it was his face! I mean... there's no way... no way!" "That's true! I've always known that Mr. Harold lives here, since high school I've often seen him in the housing opposite mine, I also often see him here... So if you see a figure like him there, I can confirm. Fix..it's him! Not a mirage at all!" This is even worse! "So why don't you ever talk about that sweetie pie!" Me being sarcastic.

“'ave an 'eart, mate, I got no bleedin' dosh.” “No money, no spirits,” Mister Shouty says unsympathetically. “You are leaving and you are not coming back.” “Not going to call the cops?” I ask him. “Them?” His face scrunches in complete disgust. “Not bloody likely! Throw him out, please, he is making my shop look untidy.”

“Inspector Pitt. Are you here for dinner, perhaps?” The man known as Inspector Pitt walked down the stairs and stood next to Griff. Originally, he was planning on asking whether Griff was about to do something illegal. But when he saw Quinna and Trevor, he immediately seemed shocked and said, “Miss Aurum, Mr. Hammond, what are you two doing here?”

"Yeah, getting to know each other's friends." "But almost everyone here basically knows each other already." Alexander shrugged and Damon gave him an accusing stare. "Why do I feel like you're going big bossagainst?" Damon was ready to snap back at him for once again calling Mike 'Big Boss' (the man was a whole 5'7, maybe 5'8 on a good day and physical appearance wise looked like he could lose in a fight with cat) but Ben joined them, full lips tugged down into a distasteful frown despite his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Is that what you guys are calling each other now? What is this, Descendants of the Sun?"

“I’m sorry, sir, I—” “What are you staring at?” he shouted, lifting his hand again. I flinched. But before the slap landed, another hand caught his wrist midair. The movement was so sudden that even I gasped. Tristan. He stood between us now, his expression no longer flirtatious but frighteningly cold. “How dare you hit a woman?” he said, voice low enough to be more menacing than a shout. The drunk customer yanked his arm back. “Who the hell are you?”

No reply. Thank the gods of Brooklyn, I was free from- "Come in." The voice shrill and rasp wheezed out. Mr Pitt was a mad man. Taking in a breath of ... well, a breath, I entered. I wished I had exhaled more of what I thought was rotten eggs and dead fish smell because once I got inside, it was worst. The room was airless and very dirty. Dirty in the sense that it smelled awful and was basically so cluttered with piles of nonsense everywhere. My first step landed in a chunk of dark cruddy water. Was the whole room not dark and cruddy?