Looking at Leon in the distance, whose face appeared regretful but was slyly winking at him, Andre Prince felt a snap in his mind, as though something had completely broken.
Despite being rather worldly, it was his first time realizing someone could pierce another's heart with a thousand wounds without uttering a single curse word, merely jesting with a few casual remarks.
In Andre Prince's heart, the "Royal Evening Banquet" was once his softest Pure Land, his sole refuge from harsh reality; yet after he decided to temporarily confine Leon in this painting, that Pure Land became terribly tainted, transforming from paradise into a torturous Hell.
Whether it was the initial "Clown Theory" or those subtle criticisms veiled in stories about "Andre Senior," they were knives piercing through his body, each stab causing excruciating pain.
That damned bastard!
