Chapter 991
Chapter 990:
The man cast a glance back at the crowd and then silently slipped out of Ublento Medical University.
When the man reached Quentin, the car engine was already rumbling. He bent toward the open passenger-side window and spoke quietly, “Mr. Hudson, do you want me to handle anything else?”
“Murray can’t be kept around anymore,” Quentin said, his voice soft, almost gentle. He was the picture of refined civility, his tone as mild as a summer breeze, yet the calm tone disguised the weight of a death sentence.
The man showed no reaction, his face calm as though he had heard orders like this a hundred times before. “Consider it done,” he replied.
Quentin’s eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. “Do it neatly. No loose ends.”
“Understood,” the man answered.
The window slid up, shutting Quentin off from the world outside. A low hum rolled from the engine as the car eased away from the curb and disappeared into the street.
Left standing alone, the man drew out his phone. One number was dialed, and when the call connected, he spoke a single flat command: “Kill Murray Sampson.”
No one ever tied Quentin’s polished manners and quiet charm to the savagery that had rained down on Trinity.
The students at Ublento Medical University had been outraged, yes, but on their own, their fury would have amounted to nothing more than shouting and shoving. It had been Quentin’s man who poured fuel on their anger, guiding it until it exploded into brutal violence.
After Quentin’s man left, the students’ fire finally began to die, leaving only silence behind. Yet, no eyes softened at the sight of Trinity’s wrecked body. Every onlooker believed she had earned the pain. Even those who had once flattered her stayed rooted at a distance, unwilling to step forward. Content originally comes from
The staff from the hospital wing arrived at last, and their report was merciless. Three ribs were snapped, deep bruises spread across nearly every inch of her body, patches of hair were ripped out by the roots, and her fingernails were torn until only blood remained.
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For someone raised in comfort and shielded from every hardship, such raw and relentless agony rattled Trinity’s soul.
Trinity stayed curled in on herself, a low, broken moan spilling from her mouth without end. The sound lingered even after she was lifted onto a stretcher and carried away.
Meanwhile, administrators rushed to impose order, though it was a lost cause. Enrollment day had drawn swarms of new students and their families, their unfamiliar faces blurring with the regular crowd. No one could say who had thrown a fist or landed a kick. It was mob justice in its truest form. With so many hands involved, every person shared the blame, which meant none could be punished. The school let the matter fade.
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