Lucas really didn't care about his current condition, which shouldn't provoke the anger of the person beside him. His pride was gone, which was why if the person beside him was going to kill him, he had no problem at all. Because it was better to die than to be a sex slave of mentally ill men.
The man smiled wryly, then stood up from his seat. He walked out of the room. "Asshole, let me go!" shouted Lucas angrily.
The man was still walking, and before long, about five people entered the room. They were carrying a funnel and a jug of who knows what. Lucas' body began to tremble with fear of what they were carrying. If you think about it, he himself wanted to die, but somehow he became afraid just seeing the five men walking towards him.
"Let go of me!" shouted Lucas angrily.
"Sweetie, don't yell. Your throat will hurt," said a man who was now sitting next to him.
