They carried An Ran into Brother Dong's room, threw her inside, and kindly closed the door behind them.
Brother Dong was sitting on a large sofa, holding a glass of red wine and swirling it slowly, his eyes examining the girl in front of him.
An Ran's white sweatshirt was already dirty beyond recognition, her long ponytail half undone, and her black hair falling over her forehead.
Her hands were tied behind her back, her cheeks scraped and slightly bleeding from fiercely struggling on the deck earlier.
Despite her disheveled state, there was a unique aura in her eyes.
Brother Dong drank the wine in one gulp, placed the glass on the table, and stood up, hands casually in his pockets, walking step by step toward An Ran.
An Ran instinctively stepped back, the ferocity in her eyes resurfacing, "I'm warning you, don't come any closer."
She had already made up her mind to perish with the man; even if she couldn't succeed, she would not yield to him.
