"You wouldn't guess that before I cut off his head, he knelt before me, wept bitterly, and begged for my forgiveness.

Forgive him for killing my brother, my only brother.

Do you know what it's like to lose a loved one?

No, you don't know, you're only so small, like a poor worm, kneeling before me and begging for my forgiveness, just like your father.

Ahh

The white-haired Moody became more and more excited, and finally smashed the wine glass in his hand at Phil, who was close at hand.

The little fat man didn't dodge, the translucent glass was very heavy, and it smashed on his head, and blood immediately flowed down his cheeks.

The white-haired Moody was like a madman, and shouted loudly: "So, I'm helping you to experience this feeling, isn't it enjoyable?"

After the loss of a loved one, does it feel like you are free from the shackles and completely free, which makes you want to laugh?

You laugh, you laugh quickly, let me see the corners of your grinning mouth, laugh!"

Phil wiped the blood from his head, the wound was not big, but it was still very painful, and he was a little dizzy, probably a slight concussion.

He shook his head, finally realizing why these subordinates were so afraid of the man in front of them, they didn't even dare to breathe, and they didn't even dare to show a gloating expression on their faces.

This man is a madman, a hysterical lunatic, and perhaps a bit of a split personality.

The original plan probably won't work, because you can't reason with a madman who doesn't follow common sense and can change his mind at any moment.

"Hahahaha!"

What's weird is that Phil actually laughed, and he laughed so loudly and wildly, leaning forward and back, his whole body swaying.

The people around him, including the white-haired Moody, were stunned, no one expected this kid to really laugh.

They were all waiting for this kid to cry bitterly or beg for mercy obscenely.

Phil had calmed down and was sure his father, Matthew, was okay.

For a moment, all the blood in his body surged onto his forehead, and the green tendons on his neck suddenly appeared, and he really almost rushed up, fighting with this old pervert, even if he died, he had to bite off a bite of his flesh first.

Fortunately, there was a cut in my head, and the blood flowed out, and I felt much better.

He licked his blood-stained fingers, fishy, still the familiar smell.

Phil knew his father, Matthew, well, who could not be gentle, who might not be empathetic, who might have all sorts of flaws.

But only one thing is that he is a soldier, a Predator imbued with the heritage of the Ward army, and pride has been integrated into his bone marrow.

He may be beheaded by the enemy one day, but he will never kneel, let alone weep bitterly, wagging his tail at the enemy like a wretched worm.

Phil laughs because he wants to express his own pleasure, and on the other hand, he has to disrupt the other person's rhythm.

Although I don't know what this man wants to do, he resolutely can't follow the rhythm of the other party.

In the face of a madman, there is no chance for him to get emotionally "high".

Otherwise, if you let the other party lose their minds and go berserk, it is really possible to kill yourself casually.

With all these shitty things present, no one can stop this pervert.

Phil swept around with cold eyes, except for Murphy, he really didn't think anyone was particularly pleasing to the eye.

"What are you laughing at?" asked the white-haired Moody, who seemed curious about the question, crouched in front of Phil and stared into his eyes, his curious expression like that of an innocent child.

As he got closer, his pale skin and dark red eyes became even more terrifying, and the stench from his mouth sprayed on Phil's face, making the little fat man tilt his head back to avoid it.

"Why don't you answer me?" asked Moody as he leaned in, looking unstoppable.

None of the people present felt that there was anything wrong with him treating a ten-year-old child in such a tone, as if they had become accustomed to his strange style.

Phil moved back again, it was so stinky that he suspected that the other party hadn't brushed his teeth since he was born.

"I'm sick!" Phil asked.

Sure enough, the white-haired Moody seemed to be distracted, and instead of obsessing over why he was laughing, he asked, "What's the disease?"

"I've been sick since my mother's womb, and I have been delirious for a few days a month, like a fool.

If I'm right, in two days, I'll be sick.

So, if you have any questions, or what you need me to do, hurry up and get started now.

Since your subordinates were able to bring me in, I believe they must have done an investigation, and you will know the truth as soon as you ask, and it will not do me any good to lie to you. Phil replied solemnly.

Moody looked behind him with a puzzled look on his face, until Murphy, who was standing in the crowd, nodded in confirmation.

It seems that Phil has lost his interest by playing his cards unreasonably, and Moody's mood is a little low, like a child who has lost his toy.

He sat back in his seat and looked at Phil condescendingly, and actually began to negotiate terms with a child like him.

"Supplies, we need weapons, armor, oil, medicine, we all need supplies.

In addition, we need a passage that allows our caravans to pass freely. "The white-haired Moody's is asking for a sky-high price, and I don't know if it's serious.

"No problem, I'm a direct member of the Snape family, and I'm very much loved by my grandfather. As long as your request is not excessive, he will agree. Phil agreed, not even a counteroffer.

This is also one of the compulsory courses for the children of the nobility, how to respond after being kidnapped or coerced.

It doesn't matter whether you cash in after that, the important thing is to survive first, as long as you get out of danger, then the conditions promised before are no different from waste paper.

"I have an interesting idea, maybe I'll use one of your ears as a token, and if that old fellow Brad is a little more determined. Moody asked curiously.

"Trust me, I know my grandfather.

If I get hurt, even if I lose even a strand of hair, he'll be very upset.

What you are doing now has angered him, and the only reason he has to do not do it now is because he believes that I can still appear in front of him intact.

If this reason is gone, he will be furious, and he will not even be interested in talking to you.

You know his nickname, Brad the Lion.

A mad lion, and tens of thousands of equally mad soldiers under his command, no matter what they do, it is not unusual.

Scale, you need to master the scale now, not meaningless venting.

If it goes a little further, I can't tell if he will give up on me.

You know, I'm not his only grandson, my parents are very young, and I'm just their first child. ”

In the face of a group of vicious bandits, Phil's tone sounded particularly sincere, completely like I was good for you.

If he had such good eloquence and psychological quality in his previous life, he would have become a marketing director a long time ago.

With that, Phil sat there in silence.

He wouldn't be stupid enough to shout, 'If you dare to touch a single hair of mine, I'll die for you, and you can try to cut off parts from a dead person that are as different from a living person', so I guess this pervert in front of him will really be interested in giving it a try.

The white-haired Moody looked at Phil with interest, as if he thought the little fat man was quite interesting, and asked, "So how do we prove that you are in our hands, and how can we prove that you are still alive?"

Or a little finger would be a great gift, at least to avoid your pretty little face, hahahaha. Before he could finish speaking, he laughed hysterically again.

"I can write for you, my font is familiar to him, and I can also act as your lobbyist in the letter.

You can check, I'm not going to do anything in there. Phil looked confident and very happy at the same time.

I just tried it through a small trap in the language, and the result was more sure that my father was still alive.

"Keep him alone in the back warehouse, and tell those who like meat to stay away from him. Moody seemed to finally get back to a bit of normalcy and waved his hand.

Then Phil was taken out and thrown into a log cabin not far away.

Phil's new bedroom was pitifully small, less than 10 square meters, but it seemed enough for a small person like him, and he was quite satisfied.

At least there was a roof, there were walls, and there was no longer cold dirt underneath, but a piece of fur from an unknown animal that had not been washed in an unknown number of years.

The only good thing is that it's so dirty that it doesn't even smell.

Although I don't believe that they are kidnapping themselves in a hurry, it is really as simple as asking for a little material, but these are not Phil's worries.