Unlike Elandor who had long shit himself in his house and prepared to sleep early, a girl with short red hairs was constantly searing in the Central Park.
This beauty was no other than Beatrix, her perfect oval face was twisting in pure agony, her mood full of irritation.
"So annoying!"
"Why has this person Z not con yet?"
"It's already 5.40 p.m. but there is no sign of him?"
In the last few minutes alone she had checked her phone more than fifty times, the impatience was driving her crazy.
Looking at the setting sun, and feeling the cold evening air, she gritted her teeth in hatred.
Seeing such a psycho woman in the middle of the park, even a few people taking an evening walk had distanced themselves thinking of Beatrix as some mentally unstable patient.
But unfazzled by the passerby's opinions, Beatrix was in her own world.
Her brain was constantly trying to arrive at various conclusions.
Beatrix stomped so sharply, that her long heels screeched the grassy footpath.
