Page 187 of His Hell Girl

It was all a game. I'm almost sure helethimself get hit to make the other man think he was going down and then gain an opening over him.

The giant continues to struggle, Vlad's grip on his neck is too strong to allow for any movement.

He drags his flailing body in a circle all around the stadium in a slowfuck youto Miles. Heading back to the middle, he looks up at the booth as he simply squeezes tightly, the neck snapping, the man's movements stopping.

Instead of letting the body fall to the floor, though, he takes the axe the man had dropped and grabbing him by the hair; he proceeds to cut the head off the body.

Three hits—that's all it takes for the head to become detached from the neck, blood flowing to the floor.

"Ew." Bianca scrunches up her nose in disgust.

Rotating his arm backwards, Vlad leans back before throwing the head with all the strength he can muster toward the booth where Miles is. The glass crashes as the head breaks through.

"Vlad," I call out, but he doesn't hear me.

Instead, he's walking slowly, yet intently toward the booth. His entire body is strung high, adrenaline coursing through his veins and making him even more unpredictable than his reputation.

I want to go to him, but Marcello holds me back, shaking his head and telling me to let him deal with it.

And as I turn my head back in Vlad's direction, I see him climb up the wall, using different wires to hold his balance until he reaches the booth.

Using his fist, he smashes more of the glass until he can fit inside. But he doesn't go in. No, he reaches inside the booth, his hand taking hold of a piece of material before he throws a body out.

"What…" My mouth is hanging open as I stare at what just happened.

There's a man on the floor of the arena. A small, old man who has the most twisted smile I've ever seen. Even as he struggles toget off the ground, blood already pouring out of a head wound, he's arrogantly smirking at Vlad.

Jumping from the booth, Vlad's eyes are completely glazed as he heads toward whom I presume is Miles.

"I was right," the man starts, "youaremy little miracle."

"Tell me," Vlad growls as he keeps his pace, slowly advancing, his eyes completely focused on Miles. "Tell me," he repeats in a deadly voice that should make people shudder.

Instead, it only makes Miles laugh more, looking at Vlad with a mix of awe and satisfaction.

"You are my greatest achievement," he says, his eyes sparkling with delusion.

"And you'll be my greatest kill," Vlad sneers, his nostrils flared as he takes one more step, his arms riled up with tension, the veins protruding, his muscles strained.

"Really?" Miles arches an eyebrow. "Without finding out what happened to your sister?" he chuckles, and that sick sound is already grating on my nerves.

I want to get there myself and kill him for everything he's put Vlad through. He deserves nothing but the worst torture imaginable for everything he's done.

My own blood is boiling as I cannot wait to see how he meets his end.

"You killed her," Vlad spits the words out, and I feel his rage as my own.

"No, Sisi," Marcello tightens his grip on my arm as I try to go to him again, "let him see this through." He nods at me.

But just as I'm about to say something, Miles' maniacal laugh resounds in the entire arena, the echo reverberating through every nook and corner.

"Me? Think again." His mouth twists up in arrogance, just as he lifts his hand, a small remote control in his hands.

The doors of the arena open again, this time five soldiers coming through. My eyes widen as I realize that Miles never intended to tell Vlad anything. He merely wanted to test his strengths.

"You're dead," Vlad threatens when he sees the other people come into the stadium.

"I wonder…" Miles quips as he presses a button on the remote control.

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