Familiar Spanish entered his ears.
Barrett recognized it immediately, these guys holding him were Lao Mo's.
He was, after all, a professionally trained agent.
He reacted quickly, thrusting his hand desperately into the noose to avoid the rope tightening around his artery and causing his brain to pass out from temporary ischemia.
Once he fainted, it would be all over for him.
"I...I am...Barrett...from Song's..."
At that moment, Song Heping suddenly became his lifeline.
After all, Song Heping had become quite famous among the drug dealers in Mexico over the past couple of years.
Everyone knew he was a ruthless character who could even wipe out the entire Los Zetas Organization.
Using that reputation, as long as one was part of this circle, they would have some apprehensions.
But he was mistaken.
The other side had no intention of stopping.
They continued speaking in Spanish.
"Morado, press down harder, this guy is struggling too much."
"Torres, what are you standing there for, pour water on his towel!"
"Damn it! Tighten it!"
"The boss said he can't leave this room alive!"
Barrett was very familiar with Spanish.
Upon hearing this, his heart turned ice cold.
The other party was after his life.
"Who's your boss...who is..."
Finally, his hand managed to slip into the noose; it was extremely painful, but it bought him a brief respite to speak a complete sentence.
"Who?! Ha! You know our boss!"
Then someone said: "His hand! Pry it off!"
"Sure thing!"
Someone immediately responded.
Barrett suddenly felt a sharp pain in the hand that he had thrust into the noose.
A blade had been plunged directly into his palm...
No.
It was slicing through his fingers!
"Ahh—"
He began to scream.
"Shut him up!"
Someone was yelling angrily.
Suddenly, the towel over his face was removed and then stuffed into his mouth.
"Mmm mmm mmm—"
At this moment, Barrett felt the impending threat and proximity of death.
The Grim Reaper seemed to spread its wings above his head, circling, ready to descend and snatch his life away at any moment.
However, he had also gotten a clear look at the people in front of him.
Typical Lao Mo.
Clearly gang assassins.
Each one with a menacing look in their eyes.
These people had no mercy.
To them, killing a man was no different from slaughtering a fish.
Severe pain came again.
A killer standing by the bathtub actually used a knife to break off Barrett's middle finger after prying his hand.
But the job was crudely done, the finger was hacked rather than cut, and then snapped off...
Barrett was screaming, but no sound came out; he struggled, using up every ounce of strength in his body.
"Damn, fingers are so hard to cut..."
The assassin seemed to comment on his knife skills in the kitchen as if evaluating a piece of pork bone, examining the severed finger and expressing a similar sentiment.