Zhuang Chujiao was dragged all the way forward, tottering in her high heels, almost falling to the ground several times, but unfortunately that didn't stir up the slightest bit of pity from these people.
She gradually realized something was wrong, but her head was heavy and foggy; the alcohol had dulled her reactions a lot.
By the time she came back to herself, she had already been taken into a shabby, run-down room.
As soon as she stepped in, she was violently thrown to the floor.
She was drunk by now, her sense of pain clearly dulled, so even when she hit the ground she didn't feel much.
She tried to stand up, but her legs were weak; when she lifted her head she saw several men yelling as they walked toward her.
She blurted out instinctively, "What do you want?"
No one answered her. One of them came over with a glass of water, grabbed her chin and forced it into her mouth, clearly not wanting to waste time on her.
