The bartender's face was panic-stricken: "What happens here has nothing to do with you, you shouldn't have come back!"
"Is that so?" Chichu Chun crouched down, reaching her hand toward the bartender's forehead.
"Please spare me, I'm forced into this!" The bartender shed tears of despair, "I know what you want to ask, but I can't say... "
"Once spoken, my brain will turn into mush; it's a common company tactic!"
The bartender desperately closed his eyes, the girl's hand paused before his forehead, not advancing further.
Seeing this, the bartender's gaze sharpened, reaching for a fallen gun nearby.
Fire flashed, and the bartender's wail echoed, clutching his severed hand, he curled up on the ground.
"I said, how did you know this guy was pretending?" Sparrow raised an eyebrow.
"Anyone dumped here by the company is mostly a death row prisoner with a sold-life contract." Night Owl kicked the gun away from the bartender's side.
"This guy's gaze never strayed from the gun."
