That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 875 Chapter 875: His hands and feet were bound. The restraints, laced with toxins, drained what little strength he had left. He could not change. He could not run. He could not fight. And the people? They were relentless. "Scum!" "Evil devil!" "May your soul rot in the nine hells!" Their hatred was a chorus, hot as the sun beating down on him. Every step was a reminder of how far he had fallen-from Great Lord to this, a man caged and paraded for public ridicule. Zaiper had never chosen death lightly. But this public disgrace was far worse. A woman lunged past the line of guards.

"You deserve justice of the people!" she screamed, spitting at him. The saliva struck his cheek, hot and reeking of bile. Zaiper tried to snarl, to bare his fangs. But all that came out was a weak, broken growl. He was too weak. Starved of food. Deprived of blood. Exhausted beyond measure. Soldiers surrounded him on all sides, shielding him from the worst of the assault, but the barrier between order and chaos was thin. Twice already mobs had tried to hurl themselves at him during this wretched procession, and now another waited further ahead.

"Give him to us!" "Hand him over!" S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findηʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "He deserves to die screaming!" "Stand back!" a soldier shouted, trying to hold back the tide. But then it happened. More chapters just for you gαℓησvs․com A hard object smashed against Zaiper's back with a brutal crack, pain shooting down his spine. Then came the fists. The boots. The claws. He collapsed to the ground, and they descended on him like a pack of wolves. There were no screams from him, only strangled gasps and guttural grunts.

He couldn't cry out. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He tasted his own blood. Heard the unmistakable crunch of ribs breaking under a savage stomp. He wanted to scream, to demand the soldiers do their damned job. But his voice was gone. Lost. Were that pack of fools even trying to help? It didn't seem so. A moment later, they hurled foul water over him. But it was boiling. Filthy. . . .