Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts-Chapter 61 - Sixty

His brain, slow and filled with cheap wine, could not understand why the victim was speaking like the attacker.

Camilla did not answer him with words. She answered him with action.

She stood perfectly still, her eyes locked onto his face. Very slowly, without breaking eye contact, she bent her knees slightly. She reached down toward her right leg. She slipped her hand inside the top of her dark leather boot.

When she brought her hand back up, the dim yellow light of the lamp caught the shiny, sharp edge of a metal blade.

Camilla brought out a sharp kitchen knife. She had stolen it from the Benson mansion kitchens before she left. It was not a fancy sword or a decorative dagger.

She held the wooden handle loosely in her fingers. She swung the knife playfully back and forth in the air. The metal cut through the stale air of the room.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at the large man with a dark, calculating smile.

"Should I slash your face first," Camilla asked out loud, her voice completely calm and conversational, "or just kill you straight away?"

The leader stared at the kitchen knife. He looked back up at her beautiful, perfectly calm face. He was still deeply confused on what was going on. Women from wealthy families did not do these things. He thought she was just playing a crazy, desperate game to scare him away.

He let out a rough, barking laugh. He did not take her seriously at all.

Camilla saw his laugh. Her smile faded into a straight, cold line.

"I prefer to kill you first," Camilla spoke, her voice dropping into a deadly, freezing whisper. "But slowly."

Seeing the dead, empty look in her eyes, the leader finally realized that she was completely serious. She was not bluffing. She was not playing a game. She intended to put that sharp blade into his flesh.

A flash of anger crossed the leader’s scarred face. He was a massive man who weighed more than twice her size. He decided to end this foolishness right now.

With a loud, angry grunt, the leader lunged at her.

He threw his massive body forward. He stretched out his right hand, aiming to knock the knife off her hand and grab her by the throat. He moved with the brute force of an angry bear.

But Camilla was not there when his hand arrived.

Camilla moved with grace. As the leader lunged, she simply bent her knees and twisted her waist. She smoothly dodged his heavy attack, slipping directly under his outstretched arm.

The leader stumbled forward slightly, his momentum carrying him past her.

Before he could regain his balance, Camilla quickly spun around to face his exposed side. She needed to strike hard. She pulled her left arm back tightly. She drove her elbow forward with all of her strength.

Thud!

She used her elbow to hit his chest perfectly. She struck the exact center of his ribs, right on the solar plexus. It was a pressure point designed to completely knock the breath out of an opponent’s lungs.

The bald leader gasped loudly. His mouth fell wide open. All the air left his body in a sudden whoosh. He hunched forward, clutching his chest, completely paralyzed for a split second as his lungs desperately tried to find air.

Camilla stepped back to prepare for her next attack. But as she moved, a sudden, sharp pain shot all the way up her left arm.

"Ouch!!!" Camilla exclaimed out loud in pure surprise.

She quickly grabbed her left arm with her right hand. The bones in her elbow throbbed with a dull, burning ache. The impact against the heavy man’s chest had actually hurt her more than she expected.

She looked down at her own thin arms.

"I have completely forgotten," Camilla thought to herself, rubbing her arm in genuine pain. Her internal voice was highly annoyed. "The female lead’s body is incredibly weak! In my old body, that elbow strike would have shattered his ribs. But this fragile little noble body has absolutely no muscle mass. I cannot use brute strength to win. I have to rely completely on the blade."

The leader finally managed to suck a loud, harsh breath of air into his lungs. He coughed violently. He turned his head to look at her, his small eyes burning with pure, murderous rage. He reached for the dagger at his own belt.

Camilla did not give him the time to draw his weapon.

She stopped rubbing her sore arm. She quickly shifted her weight onto her back foot. She swung the kitchen knife into position, holding it firmly with the blade pointing down.

As the leader turned fully toward her, Camilla darted forward. She moved faster than his eyes could track. She circled around to his back in one smooth, flowing motion.

She raised the knife high and stabbed him directly in his broad back.

She drove the blade deep into the thick muscles just below his right shoulder blade. The blade sank into the flesh perfectly.

The leader’s eyes bulged completely out of his head. The shock of the cold metal entering his body froze his blood. He opened his mouth wide and let out a loud, wet, agonizing groan.

"Urrgghhh," the leader groaned, falling heavily to his knees on the dirty wooden floor.

Camilla twisted the handle of the knife sharply, causing maximum damage to the muscle.

Then, she quickly pulled the bloody blade out of his back. Warm, dark red blood immediately soaked the back of his leather vest.

Camilla stepped back. She looked at the blood dripping from the shiny metal of the kitchen knife. A dark, terrifying smile spread across her face.

But her mind was working clearly. She knew there were five more armed men waiting right outside the wooden door. If they heard the leader groaning in pain, or if they heard the sounds of a real fight, they would immediately kick the door open and rush inside. She could not fight five heavy men at the same time in this weak body. She needed a distraction. She needed to buy herself some time to finish her work quietly.

Camilla smiled her wicked smile. She opened her mouth and let out a loud, high-pitched, desperate shout.

"Stop! Please!" Camilla screamed at the top of her lungs. She made her voice sound incredibly terrified and completely helpless. "No more, I beg of you! Please stop hurting me!"

Outside the heavy wooden door, the five remaining gang members were leaning against the damp stone walls. They were holding their clubs and rusty swords, waiting for their boss to finish.

When they heard Camilla’s loud, desperate pleas coming from inside the room, followed by the deep, muffled groans of their leader, the men looked at each other.

They did not suspect that their boss was dying. They thought exactly the opposite.

The men began smiling wide, ugly smiles. They grinned at each other in the dim hallway light, highly amused by the terrible sounds.

"Wow," one of the men said, scratching his dirty beard. "I didn’t expect the boss to be so fierce today. He usually takes his time."

Another man with a missing front tooth laughed a loud, cruel laugh. "The activity inside must be incredibly intense," he joked, pointing his club at the closed door. "Listen to her scream. He is not showing that rich girl any mercy at all."

A third gang member, younger and eager, pushed himself off the stone wall. "Let’s go and listen closely," he suggested, his eyes shining with curiosity.

The men agreed. The room was already boring, and this was their only entertainment. They decided to take turns spying on their boss. Some of them would go to the door and listen closely, while the others would stand back to keep watch over Zade and Austin in the main room. Then, they would switch places.

The first set of two men walked quietly up to the closed door. They pressed their ears flat against the thick wood, holding their breath to hear better.