The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy!-Chapter 775: Tribe of Talmaru

"Please refrain from provoking others. Next time, no one may save you. If I were you, I’d wait for your husband first."

Lola’s smug look immediately faded as her brows drew together. "What did you say?"

But the man didn’t answer her. He turned his back and began walking away.

"Wait!" she called out, lifting her head as that was the only thing she could do. "What do you mean by that?"

The silver-eyed man paused and glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t answer. He resumed walking, closing the door but leaving it slightly ajar.

"Hey!" Lola shouted once more, but there was nothing.

He was gone.

The lines on her face deepened as she thought about what the man had said. It was strange, somehow. It was like he was implying she should stop knocking on death’s door until Atlas arrived to rescue her.

She could’ve assumed he meant it as mockery, but something about it told her otherwise.

"What the hell..." she trailed off as she turned her head toward the cell where Derek and Amala were.

Both of them were looking back at her. Derek’s expression was a mix of emotions, while Amala looked more worried. Compared to Lola, Amala’s condition seemed much worse.

"She’s not that strong," Lola said, focusing on Amala. "If she fought in the cage, she wouldn’t stand a chance."

Then a smile curved on her lips to reassure Amala.

"Lola..." Amala breathed out, slumping against her propped arm on the floor. "I think you should listen to the handsome seminarian. Stop knocking on death’s door."

Derek moved forward. "Lola, are you really okay?"

"Mhm."

"How is that possible?!" he shouted. "Melissa isn’t weak anymore. She kicked me right in the gut, and that almost knocked me out."

Lola didn’t bother responding. She lay flat on the floor, letting herself relax a little. Amala also lay down; her injuries hadn’t healed yet. Still, Derek’s rambling lingered in their minds.

How was it possible that Melissa’s kick nearly knocked Derek out but didn’t do the same to Lola?

He would probably understand if he knew that Lola used to fight in underground brawls—used to get beaten to a pulp until she could finally defend herself and claim her first win. Melissa might have gained some skill now, but compared to the years Lola had endured, it was nothing.

"Just shut up," Lola muttered lazily, her eyes growing heavier with every blink. "I’m trying to think."

"Think about what?!" Derek argued, but she didn’t answer anymore. "Lola—Lola, are you sleeping?"

She didn’t respond, which only made him panic.

"I don’t think you should sleep!" he exclaimed. "Melissa kept hitting you in the head, and from what I know, you shouldn’t sleep after getting struck like that! Lola, can you hear me? Lola! Lola—"

"Shut up!" This time, Lola yelled back at him and glared. "Just—just shut up, okay? I’m thinking about how to get us out of here! And you’re not helping."

This time, he almost choked. But seeing that she was fine eased his heart somewhat. He zipped his mouth shut and loosened his grip on the metal bars until Amala’s weak voice echoed.

"Lola, can you walk?"

With her eyes closed, Lola let out a short hum. "No. I can’t feel my legs or one of my arms. I can only use one hand. That’s it."

"It’s a paralytic drug?" Amala asked, her voice growing quieter. "That’s an impressive one."

"I know." Slowly, Lola opened her eyes. "How about you? How did Farah corner you like this?"

Amala let out a weak chuckle. "I didn’t notice her intentions until you called." She closed her eyes. "She had already spiked my drink and finished it before I answered your call. So I ended up like this. Sorry, Lola. I lowered my guard."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" Lola closed her eyes as well. "I’ll get us out of here. My husband... I’m sure he’ll get us out."

Amala wanted to say more, but all she could muster was a soft chuckle.

It’s strange to hear her rely on someone like this, she thought. But I guess her husband is truly someone worth relying on at times like this.

As Amala and Lola fell silent, Derek darted his gaze between them. His expression changed every few seconds, his mouth opening and closing before he could blurt out a word.

In the end, all he could do was... nothing.

What else could he do? Or rather, what else could any of them do in this situation?

Lola was almost completely paralyzed. Amala was heavily injured. Silo was still unconscious for whatever reason. And Derek... he couldn’t do anything while locked in here. Even if he weren’t, he doubted he could do anything other than run.

*****

Meanwhile, in the Tribe of Talmaru...

It might have been called a tribe, but it was nothing short of a small, flourishing country. In one of its regions, large hills could be seen from the highways. It looked beautiful, especially with the sun about to set.

Temples and grand shrines stood gloriously even from afar. Those who had lived in this country for a long time knew those places were called blessed for a reason. It was where the sun set, bestowing its blessing against the dangers of the night.

But unlike the beautiful and glorious scenery from afar, the situation at the grand temple painted a different picture.

Bodies lay scattered from the foot of the hill all the way up the pathway to the grand temple. Blood trailed across the ground, painting a devastating aftermath of battle. Not all of them were dead, but all of them had bled.

One might think it was the result of a gang fight, considering this country was one of the richest despite its size and tolerated organized crime groups that engaged in violence.

However, this was not the result of a gang fight or anything of that sort.

This carnage was the work of just one man.

One man who had finally reached the grand temple and now stood at the final step of the long staircase.

Seated on the flat stone at the temple’s entrance, Draken—the current head of the Talmaru Tribe—grinned the moment his gaze fell on the large young man standing there.

"It seems Atlas has finally lost his mind," Draken laughed, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "It’s been a while, Bab."

Baby lifted his eyes, his clothes soaked in dirt and blood.

"It has been... Uncle."