"It seems Marcus Marsh doesn't know how to train his men. Since when does a mere lackey like you have the right to hand out discipline on your own?" Sean Carter asked K in a low, chilling tone, his face still fixed with the gentlemanly smile he'd worn when K had been manhandling him.
If K had seen Sean Carter acting this way before, he would have thought the man was spineless. Seeing him now, however, inspired a completely different feeling.
This wasn't weakness; it was a veiled threat. He was like one of those legendary masters who rarely draws their blade, but when they do, it's always for a killing blow.
Wiping the cold sweat from his face, K looked at Sean Carter, trembling. "Mr. Carter, what do you mean by this?"
This time, he no longer dared to be insolent toward Sean Carter, politely addressing him as Mr. Carter.
