"I… I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
"Wrong answer."
A blow to the stomach had Senda bending over, gasping for air. His hair was yanked back so he could straighten up; the hand around his throat was gone. This time, the one holding him was Romano. His scalp screamed at the sudden pain, but he gritted his teeth to keep himself from shouting.
"Senda, pay attention, I don't like to repeat myself."
Caesar's cold voice snapped Senda away from his pain to look at him. To look at this man was the same as looking at the devil. The instant their gazes met, Senda lowered his gaze, wishing he could pluck his eyes out.
His body couldn't stop trembling. Fear, powerlessness, and respect filled him.
Even at the jaws of death, Senda couldn't help but hold Caesar in awe and respect. This was 'Tsar, the devil'. The madman who not only stormed into Cosa Nesa alone, but massacred every member of it, and survived unscathed at the age of sixteen. Senda had always admired him for years.
