"I, I, damn it! That stinking whore, that cheap bitch, actually dared to ignore me, Freud..."
Freud, still kneeling on one knee, was clearly stunned. His face turned impossibly dark as he couldn't help but curse, his expression morose. He had never dreamed that the cheap woman, the stinking whore he had set his sights on, would be so shameless. After he had confessed so romantically and sincerely, she had just casually left with some random man, completely ignoring him.
It was as if a massive hand had viciously slapped him across the face, leaving his trembling cheek with a burning sting. Not to mention the gazes from the bastards enjoying the show; they felt like needles stabbing deep into his flesh, causing his entire face to flush crimson with humiliation. He couldn't calm down. At that moment, Freud felt like a pathetic, laughable, and ridiculous clown.
"Mate, can we have a chat?" Just then, a tall Caucasian man approached and spoke in a hushed voice.
