All because he got drunk, couldn't keep his mouth shut, and started running his mouth, plunging the entire city of West Yellowstone into chaos.
Sheriff Sean pointed a finger at Gruus, his hand trembling slightly from the force.
"Quinn, if this bastard ever dares to go drinking at the Blue Cloud House again, break his legs."
Quinn's lips curled into a vicious grin. He looked just like a savage wolf, his eyes filled with cruelty.
"Don't worry. Forget drinking at the Blue Cloud House—if he even dares to touch a single drop of alcohol within West Yellowstone City limits, I'll give him a taste of what it's like to have five legs broken."
Gruus squatted pitifully on the snow-covered ground.
His face was black and blue, and the rims of his eyes were slightly red. He looked so wronged he was on the verge of tears.
'I have the worst luck imaginable,' he thought.
'What the hell did I do to deserve this these past few days?!'
'I get beaten up everywhere I go.'
