The gray-clothed constable's foul attitude toward the scar-faced brute was understandable. The man, wanted by the authorities, had committed countless evil deeds; his hands were practically stained with the blood of innocent people.
If his superior gave the word, the constable would have loved nothing more than to draw his sword and lop the man's damned head right off.
The gray-clothed constable coldly taunted the scar-faced brute, then raised his waterskin. Right in front of the man, he took a long, satisfying drink.
"Give me water… Quick, give me water!" Seeing that the constable had no intention of sharing, the scar-faced brute's eyes blazed with fury. He reached out, trying to snatch the waterskin.
But he was too far away to reach it. All he could do was roar in helpless rage.
After quenching his thirst, the constable dangled the waterskin just out of the man's reach, deliberately taunting him.
