The grip on his arm slowly loosened.
Pablo turned his head and glanced at Carlos Leder. The latter forced a smile but was ignored by Pablo. He lowered his head and looked at the doll that had been torn into several pieces, then knelt down with a thud, holding the doll, a look of sorrow on his face, rubbing his face against it vigorously.
Even Hollywood couldn't produce such a twisted psychology.
Oqia and Carlos Leder slowly withdrew from the room, with the latter sighing, "Should we get a doctor to take another look? The boss's condition is getting worse and worse."
"Where can we find one? All the good doctors have been killed. In a month, 17 psychologists were murdered. Who would dare to come?"
Fuck...
Indeed, doctors have bad luck. In ancient times, if an emperor's illness couldn't be cured, they'd kill your whole family!
Now, if you can't cure it, they'll kill your whole family.
Oh damn...
What a fucking messed up world!
