Serie ignored him.
She casually wiped the wine stain from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, then slammed the empty bottle onto the bar: "Another one."
Just one bottle was far from enough to satisfy Wildfire Witch, Zhuoya.
The young man with the exaggerated green hair wasn't annoyed when she ignored him; he simply pulled up a chair next to Serie and pushed a few banknotes across the bar to the bartender: "How can I let a beautiful woman pay for herself?"
Serie turned her face, glanced at him, and changed her order to the bartender: "Oh, really? Then… open your most expensive one."
The bartender didn't move, just nodded his chin towards the banknotes the green-haired man had just pushed over: "Glenfiddich 18-year, forty-one thousand a bottle."
"That's not even enough for the change."
The green-haired youth was just about to show off, striking a pose leaning against the bar, but before his elbow even touched the counter, the bartender's words came down like a bucket of ice water.
His elbow suddenly slipped, and he lurched violently on the bar stool, almost falling off.
The green-haired youth had imagined countless reactions from Serie—shy evasion? Trembling with fear? Or perhaps a feigned refusal…
But he never, ever expected this!
In front of Serie, he was like a greenhorn.
A few undisguised snickers immediately erupted from the other side of the bar.
"Green Hair Bro, can you do it?"
"You gotta go all out to pick up girls, man!"
The green-haired man's face instantly turned beet red, and the veins in his neck bulged.
Just as the bartender's hand reached for the money, the green-haired youth's hand shot out from his lower back, pulling out a dagger with a "whoosh."
With a loud "thwack," it pierced through the banknotes, the tip of the blade going straight through the wooden countertop.
"Damn it, you're looking for trouble, aren't you?" He turned his head and stared at Serie, his voice grinding out from between his teeth.
Serie's gaze swept over the dagger pinned to the bar, and a clear look of disdain flickered in her eyes.
That's it?
Small but cute?
"I don't want to cause trouble right now." Serie's voice was indifferent, as if she didn't see the young man at all. "Take your money, leave here, find a quiet place to have a drink, can't you?"
After she finished speaking, she no longer looked at the green-haired man, took the second bottle of vodka the bartender handed her, and continued to drink it in large gulps.
Perhaps it was the alluring curve of Serie's neck as she tilted her head to swallow, sparking wild fantasies.
Or perhaps the green-haired youth was simply too concerned with his pride and wanted to save face.
Instead of taking the out Serie offered, he doubled down. He propped one hand on the bar, leaned forward abruptly, and with his other hand, swept aside the bangs falling over Serie's forehead, forcing her to reveal her entire beautiful face.
"My beauty, from the moment you stepped through this door, trouble has already found you."
The green-haired youth hinted suggestively, his face contorted in a lewd smirk: "If you don't resolve this matter comfortably for us, we won't be leaving."
His companions behind him burst into knowing laughter.
Serie's movements paused.
Her amber pupils slowly turned to the green-haired man, and she said coldly, "Last warning, stay away from me."
The moment he was locked in by those eyes, a chill shot up the green-haired youth's spine, as if he had been targeted by a ferocious beast that had just emerged from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, even his breathing hitched.
An illusion… it must be an illusion! How could a mere woman have such eyes?
"Heh…"
The green-haired man forcibly suppressed the inexplicable unease in his heart, twisting his face into a distorted sneer, "Otherwise? What can you do to me?"
The faint curve at Serie's lips abruptly vanished.
She sharply flipped her wrist, directly gripping the hilt of the dagger deeply embedded in the bar!
Rip!
A cold glint erupted!
The dagger was forcibly pulled out of the thick solid wood counter with brute force, bringing with it a few splinters of wood.
Before anyone could see clearly, and before the sneer on the green-haired man's face could freeze—
Pfft!
The cold blade tip, stained with wood splinters and banknote fragments, had already brutally pierced through his hand that was propped on the bar.
The muffled, chilling sound of the blade penetrating flesh and embedding into wood.
"Ugh ah—!!!" The green-haired man's scream tore through the bar's din, distorted and filled with unbelievable agony.
The intense pain made him instinctively want to pull his hand back.
But his palm was pinned tightly!
Just as he bent and curled from the intense pain—
Serie's other hand grabbed the half-full wine bottle and, without warning, slammed it hard into his face, which was contorted in pain.
The crisp sound of glass shattering and the dull thud of bone and flesh colliding exploded simultaneously!
Transparent liquor mixed with blood and glass shards erupted violently on his face!
The immense impact caused the green-haired man's body to snap backward like a broken puppet.
But the hand that was pinned through held him tightly!
He was pinned in place in an extremely distorted posture, excruciating pain erupting from both his palm and face. He could only make gasping sounds from his throat, his body curling like a shrimp as he slid and knelt beneath the bar, blood and wine dripping from his chin.
"Otherwise, it's like this!"
Serie suddenly unleashed her long-suppressed rage with a roar.
She had always considered herself restrained, but Zoya, dormant within this body, had a fiery, almost violent nature etched into her bones.
Just now, the moment the young man's fingers brushed her hair, that last shred of rationality was completely ignited.
Serie and Zoya reached a consensus.
As soon as her words fell, the entire bar instantly fell silent.
Only Serie's angry gasps remained, along with the green-haired man, curled beneath the bar, his intermittent, off-key gasps of pain.
His few cronies' expressions completely froze, their eyes wide and staring.
Everything happened too suddenly.
From the green-haired man's lewd smirk as he leaned in, to his hand being pinned by his own dagger, then his face being smashed by the wine bottle until it was a bloody mess, leaving him wailing like a pile of mud, pinned in place—it all happened in just a few breaths.
No one could have predicted that Serie would suddenly erupt, like an unstable volcano, spewing forth without warning!
"Help… help me… damn it…" The green-haired man curled up under the bar, his face smeared with blood and wine.
Every tiny movement brought agonizing, heart-wrenching pain, leaving him able to emit only broken, intermittent wails.
His few cronies were still frozen in place, their muscles taut as stone, their heads buzzing, clearly shaken by the bloody scene before them.
Someone's Adam's apple bobbed, and their toes unconsciously scraped the floor.
But their legs felt like they were filled with lead, welded to the spot by fear.
They didn't move; instead, Serie did.
Once a volcano begins to erupt, it doesn't easily stop.
"You want to avenge him? Huh?"
Serie didn't flee; instead, she charged directly at the cronies.
"Wait… wait! No, we… we don't!" Although these leather-jacketed youths were all tall and burly, at this moment, they were so terrified by the violent aura emanating from that slender figure that they stumbled backward, bumping into their companions and sending them sprawling.
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