I instinctively turned to see what had happened, but Atlas held my head and redirected my gaze. He then instructed, “Dylan, head to the hospital.”

I quickly reassured, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. The injury is at the collarbone, so we must get it checked. Otherwise, I won’t have peace of mind,” Atlas said, looking at me with concern, “Does it still hurt?”

I felt a little guilty but shook my head and asked, “Wh-what did you do to her?”

“Kill one to warn and deter others,” Atlas answered firmly.

I never expected the warm and amiable Atlas to be so heartless. I knew he was just overly worried about my safety. I also realized he wanted to intimidate those who harbored ill intentions toward me.

…

After the examination, the doctor explained, “Fortunately, they missed the collarbone. These are just superficial wounds. I’ll prescribe an ointment for Mr. Atlas to help you apply. It’ll help alleviate the pain, reduce swelling, and promote healing.”

It was already late when we got home.