Frank strode up. "Oh, but you don't have to look for us. You're not leaving anyway!"

He strode up and punched Gashface unconscious.

When Gashface woke up, he was tied to a pillar with nylon rope.

There was a table with plates of meats of all varieties nearby, with Jada, Laura, Frank, and the burly proprietors all sitting around it and feasting.

Laura appeared apologetic, however. "I should be treating you to a meal at a proper restaurant, to be honest."

Jada smiled, shaking her head. "Don't worry about it. Mr. Frankton can fork out a hundred million at will, so he really wouldn't care!"

"Now that you've mentioned the hundred mil..." one of the proprietors asked sheepishly. "Do you really have the money? You should just leave if you don't— don't let that prick exploit you!"

Though the other proprietors nodded in agreement, Jada chuckled. "Don't worry. We're obviously going to keep our word!"

you straight—I'll sue if the money isn't

his type is definitely going to be popular inside. Don't die so

enough of Gashface's foul-mouthedness, Jada splashed her mug of beer at his face before striking

Gashface yelled, "You bitch! You're dead once

"Free, you say?"

and kicked

up just yet, however-waking him by

did not even have tears to cry now. "W-What the hell

say

off her stilettos, pressing the heel against his face

Jada laughed as she pressed the heel on Gashface's neck, and

ruthless, but Gashface was

bitch. You're screwed too

those words, concerned that things would get out of hand, the proprietors hurried up to Jada and tried to talk her out of it. "There's no

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