In such bizarre events, can someone dictate Vincent how to feel?
Vincent stared at the portrait, feeling indifferent. He knew he should feel a little bit shaken, but he lacked any emotions that would dictate to him what to feel.
Instead of feeling shaken, he glared at the portrait. Vincent felt like someone from the heavens had been making him a fool and an idiot.
Only blankness appeared inside Vincent's mind when he saw the writings on the back of the painting.
His feelings had been going up and down. From the moment he woke up until now, all Vincent could feel was that he was already exhausted. And being exhausted made Vincent feel numb.
The man mirrored his purple eyes. However, besides that, he looked like he had seen the cruelty of the world. He just sat there, arrogant, cold, and emotionless.
A pitch-black abyss.
A man with a wall.
That was what he looked like in this painting.
