It was a little while later when Gerald—who had been riding in the car that Wesson had sent over—suddenly felt the car stop. Watching as the driver lit a cigarette and glanced at his rear-view mirror—displaying a cold grin to Gerald in the process—Gerald then asked, “We’re halfway there at best, aren’t we? Why did you stop the car?”

“Oh, I’m well aware. I’m just a bit tired so I need to rest for a bit!” replied the driver, contempt written all over his face.

“Tired? Please, you haven’t been driving for that long. Look, you can do whatever you please once I’ve reached my destination, but until then, you’d best drive properly!” said Gerald as he shook his head.

Quite honestly, Gerald was unwilling to just kill people if he didn’t need to. After all, all lives were valuable. If that hadn’t been his view on life, then he would’ve spent less time speaking nonsense with such people and just killed them the chance he could.

“Hah! Do you really think you’re some kind of big shot?” snee