In the middle of vast wilderness, a human hunting competition was underway. Tenzin was driving the Lamborghini she had stolen from Jim and Rena and magnificently maneuvered through the customized region of the woods. She was shooting arrows while driving the car. Her targets were the teens that were running for their lives. Out of the 66 people, she killed 60 and left the remaining six alive because they were either good or lucky enough to dodge her arrows at least once. She told her butler, an old man with large canine teeth, “Six is too much. Make sure to break those six mentally, and then we’ll have them hunt each other. We’ll let the last remaining two or three live.” “Understood, milady,” the butler, Zondor, said, giving her the towel. “If I might speak, Stanley is waiting at the base. He said he came here to meet you.” “Stanley?” she paused for a second. “Ah, he must be here to receive his punishment.” “Pardon? Punishment?” Zondor was surprised. “What did he do?” “A few day
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