Inside a brothel, a man stood with his head bowed in shame, repeatedly apologizing. His face was a portrait of deep regret for a mistake he had made.
"I'm sorry, sir! I swear it was an accident. I didn't see your ring on the table—I must have set the tray down on it without realizing…"
But the greasy-faced, overweight man didn't care about Bravus's apology. Instead, he continued berating him harshly.
"I don't want to hear it! This is all your fault! That ring is my most prized possession! I don't even use it when I go to the toilet—and you dare damage it?! You'll pay for this!"
Bravus instantly panicked, his voice trembling with fear.
"B-but sir, the ring isn't broken. It's just a minor scratch," he said weakly, trying to explain.
Clearly, Bravus didn't want to accept full responsibility. He was willing to admit there might be a slight scratch, but nothing more. In his mind, that would be enough to avoid any unreasonable punishment.
