A phone suddenly slid across the floor and stopped right in front of him. Its screen lit up, displaying a photo of someone's face.

If Aspen, Andrew's loyal little servant, had been there, she definitely would have snapped, "How dare you! Who gave you the guts to sneak a photo of my master's devastatingly handsome face?"

Sure enough, the photo on the screen was of Andrew.

The man picked up the phone and asked in a low, gravelly voice, "Dead or alive?"

From the darkness, the High Oracle's faint laughter echoed. "If we can recruit him and make him ours, that would be the best outcome. But if not… crush his manhood and ask if he believes in our Sacred Order now."

The man asked again, "And if I crush it and he still doesn't believe it?"

The High Oracle's voice turned even colder. "Then snap his neck, or violate him brutally, whichever feels crueler. Be as vicious as you can. Use your judgment."

The man tightened his grip on the phone, grinned with a twisted smile, and turned