"Yo, another one. Is she your friend?" The man just started to step towards Sophie Smith, but Irene Morton grabbed his wrist.
"I don't know her." Her tone was somewhat cold, with a hint of detachment.
"Irene, what exactly do you want to do?" Sophie walked over, directly pushing away the man hugging Irene. The man, who was somewhat drunk, was caught off guard by Sophie's push and stumbled to the ground.
"Where the hell did you come from? How dare you lay a hand on me?" The man's rage flared up instantly, and he grabbed Sophie's wrist forcefully. Despite his drunkenness, his strength was considerable, and Sophie bit her lip, her face turning pale from the pain.
People around had been staring at her for quite a while, but no one seemed to recognize her. Maybe they were drunk and unclear-minded, or perhaps in this remote, noisy, and even outdated chaotic area, it was understandable for them not to be familiar with her.
