Mortal Kombat: Scumbag Men Stealing Away Yandere Girls

"Don't you know what 'mind your own business' means? Are you tired of living?"

When someone grabbed him and threatened him, the young man just smiled.

"...The way you're talking, are you a gangster?"

"What, you know there are people you can't mess with?" Cao Shuang sneered.

He frequented hotels and nightclubs, where he made a group of drinking buddies.

There are quite a few good guys with many tattoos on their bodies.

The young man smiled, pursing his lips.

"You fucking laugh..." Cao Shuang's words stopped abruptly.

He felt a force gripping his throat, not a hand, but more like a tightening iron ring, making it hard for him to breathe. His face turned red and his eyes became bloodshot.

He couldn't help but grab at his neck with both hands, watching the young man squat down and smile at him.

"I only came here tonight to lock you in the house so you wouldn't cause any trouble."

Having experienced so many times before, I've learned my lesson.

The gallery is opening tomorrow, and at such an important moment, the first thing to do is to eliminate any unstable factors.

I never expected to witness such an unpleasant scene.

Using medication as a means of treatment is truly disgusting and makes him feel very bad.

Cao Shuang's eyes shifted from anger to terror. He gasped for breath because he couldn't breathe, and just before he fainted, his neck suddenly loosened, and fresh air rushed in.

He lay on the ground, breathing heavily, but after only a couple of breaths, his neck suddenly tightened again.

"Ahhhhh... Eeeah..."

The pain drove him to the point where he resembled a vicious dog with a tight collar around its neck, clutching a non-existent collar, rolling and struggling wildly on the ground, tears and snot streaming down his face, his eyes rolling back as he nearly fainted. But just before he was about to pass out, he would take a deep breath and regain his senses.

His will to survive made him crawl on the ground, moving forward to grab the young man's trouser leg.

"Let go...let go...fuck you...fuck you..."

The young man did not flinch, letting the man grab him.

He smiled slightly and bent down.

“Mr. Cao, this is not the way to ask for a favor.”

“I don’t like your pleading attitude, so I’m unilaterally extending this process.”

Faint footsteps could be heard in the corridor.

"This way, manager, this is the private room..."

Just as they reached the door, the door to the private room slammed shut, startling the waiter and manager who rushed over. They tried to pull the handle but found it wouldn't budge.

"That's strange, what's going on?"

"...Quick, get the keys, hurry up!"

Outside, there was chaos, while inside, the young man squatted down in front of Cao Shuang.

"Oh, by the way, there's something else I want to tell you."

“The real gangsters don’t do this kind of cursing and swearing; that’s just thugs. I happen to have a friend like that, and he told me—you have to keep smiling until you’re close enough to kill your enemy with one blow, without letting them realize your intentions.”

Speaking slowly and deliberately to Cao Shuang, who was exhaling more and inhaling less, as if he intended to wait until the other person stopped breathing.

"...If you can't gauge someone's abilities or your own strength, don't provoke them recklessly, understand?"

Cao Shuang let out a muffled sound from his throat, which sounded like a wail or a plea for mercy.

The door to the private room was kicked open—

All they saw was Cao Shuang lying on the ground, writhing, gasping for breath, and frantically scratching at his own neck.

The broken champagne glass was restored to its original state, gleaming on the table as if nothing had happened.

The champagne tested positive for drugs, and the invisible young man watched as Cao Shuang was put into a police car before disappearing outside the building.

Chapter Fourteen: I Enjoy Listening to Him Talk

The European-style bedroom is filled with the scent of pine.

"Is this the place, Miss Qin?" she asked softly and respectfully.

"Mmm...mmm...yes, right there, so...so comfortable..." The voice that answered was soft and charming, sleepy and drowsy.

An Qin knelt on the bed, massaging Qin Ning who was lying face down, her lips pursed and her face full of seriousness.

Qin Ning would hum a few words at first, but gradually she fell silent, closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her arms.

Anqin didn't stop, continuing to press as if she were serving a precious treasure.

He poured a handful of fragrant rose essential oil onto Qin Ning's delicate hand.

After finishing, he held it in his palm and looked at it, murmuring praises.

"Wow, Miss Qin, you're so beautiful! How come you're so pretty everywhere?"

She had just exclaimed in admiration when she nervously shut her mouth again, hurriedly looking at Qin Ning to make sure she was still motionless and hadn't woken up before she breathed a sigh of relief.

After massaging Qin Ning's hands, she went to massage her feet.

"Her feet are beautiful too..."

But Miss Qin didn't seem very satisfied with her feet, constantly muttering complaints that they weren't as good as others'.

She didn't know who this "other person" was, but a sense of shared hatred and indignation naturally welled up in her heart.

She's definitely on Miss Qin's side!

Anqin was applying the essential oil when she paused for a moment when she got to her calves.

There was a red mark on Qin Ning's fair ankle. She didn't realize what it was at first, but as a painter, she was very knowledgeable about human anatomy. Suddenly, she realized what it was and held her hand to the red mark. It was a gesture of holding the ankle.

This definitely wasn't held by Miss Qin herself—

Anqin's face immediately turned red, and she quickly pretended not to see it, carefully applying the ointment.

I can't even imagine what circumstances would lead someone to leave such a forceful fingerprint on their ankle.

After she finished applying the ointment to Qin Ning's hands and feet, she lifted the thin blanket over Qin Ning's waist, revealing her delicate white nightgown and her black hair cascading down her back. She gently tossed her hair aside—

Looking only at the arms and rounded shoulders, there was nothing unusual about them.

But the faint red marks that ran down the back of her neck, hidden by her hair, all the way to her back, were all faint red marks.

An Qin blushed slightly, lowered her eyelashes, and this time she was not surprised, but quietly applied her product.

The areas where the essential oil was applied had a soft, snow-white glow.

Unbeknownst to her, her fingers were also moving across her back.

Like a paintbrush, traversing across a snow-white canvas.

A keen artistic intuition can see into people's hearts, either through creation or through subtle behaviors.

She observed the young man's every move to determine what kind of person he was.

The people around him who care for him are also a mirror, reflecting what kind of person he is.

The marks are imprinted on this place.

They didn't want anyone to see it, but they still wanted to leave a trace.

People who leave traces are strange.

They don't want others to see them and prefer to hide their treasures.

But at the same time, he was aware of, protected, cherished, and respected the personal will of the treasure.

These two mindsets are contradictory and conflicting—

How did he balance these two mindsets?

People with gentle personalities are like water, capable of influencing the thoughts and actions of others.

As she was pondering this further, she heard the sound of the door opening outside.

An Qin immediately jumped up, gently covered Qin Ning with the blanket, and ran outside.

She had a smile on her face that she herself didn't even realize.

Xx

Bai Weiran had just entered the room, still wearing his coat, when he saw An Qin tiptoeing out of the master bedroom. Their eyes met, and she put her hand to her mouth, pointing into the bedroom, silently lip-reading to him that Qin Ning was asleep and he shouldn't wake her.

He couldn't help but laugh.

Since that breakfast, Qin Ning and An Qin have gotten along better and better.

Although he felt this interaction was a bit strange—

They resembled an empress dowager and her eunuch.

Qin Ning is used to being flattered, while An Qin is someone who desperately needs to be flattered.

After An Qin lowered her guard and took the initiative to approach, the situation spiraled out of control.

He watched from the sidelines, finding it odd, but didn't dare to say anything.

He has no right to interfere with what others are enjoying, as long as it doesn't violate moral or legal boundaries.

He nodded to An Qin and was about to pour himself a glass of water when a blur flew past him.

What a brilliant, long-lost technique of teleportation!

Upon closer inspection, he saw An Qin standing in front of him, holding a water glass.

It was still being held in both hands.

A clear glass, filled with pure, cold water, and containing a slice of lemon.

Everything was done according to his preferences.