The Cost of Losing
Translator: Paperplane
Soon enough, the punisher, who looked about thirty years old and also wore black, arrived onto the scene.
Mo Ye tightly clenched both his fists. It wasn't like he hadn't been punished before, and so to him, a hundred beatings weren't considered harsh nor light.
But he was currently injured internally, so he wasn't sure if he could withstand it.
With a bitter smile, he glanced at the cold-faced person who stared out into the arena.
Forget it. After all is said and done, he couldn't compare to how ruthless that woman was and he couldn't have her.
The two men in black sent to carry out the punishment, kneeled before Liu Rushuang.
"At your service, milady!" They exclaimed with coarse voices.
"Carry out the punishment!" Cried Liu Rushuang In a chilling voice, after she shot a dull glance at the two of them
"Yes." The punishers got up, then positioned themselves on either side of Mo Ye, and struck him with thick wooden sticks.