Lynsandra weakly slapped the man’s hand away, only for someone to kick it aside and stomp on it violently. Meanwhile, the man laughed maniacally as he kept pouring alcohol into her mouth, not stopping even as she gagged and it overflowed.

"God..." One of the onlookers took a fearful step back and looked away. "Damn it! I told her to shut it."

"Even if she heard you, she already got their attention," the stranger beside him muttered, lowering his head.

It wasn’t that some men didn’t want to help — they did. But they also had to think of themselves. They came here to have fun, not to die.

Some women covered their mouths and looked away. As for the three ladies the gang had been harassing earlier, they could only watch in fear. A part of them felt guilty. She was the only one who had stepped in for them, and now she was the one suffering.

All they could do was look away bitterly, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.

But not everyone felt sorry for her. Some raised their phones, turned on their flashlights, and started recording.

"Drink it, bitch!" the man laughed, shoving the bottle’s neck deeper into her mouth. "You want to get drunk, huh? Go on — drink more! Hahaha!"

Lynsandra tried to reach for him again, but the foot pressing on her wrist pinned her down. Her legs moved weakly, but with the bottle choking her, she could almost see the gates of heaven... or hell — wherever that red door led.

I’m getting more... dizzy, she thought as more alcohol flooded her system. Hurts... my head hurts.

[Lynsandra, what did I tell you about drinking?]

Suddenly, Enlly’s faint voice echoed in her mind.

Her vision blurred further as it spun. She felt her strength slipping, her eyelids growing heavy. Her movements weakened until she stopped moving altogether.

Seeing her go still, the three women felt their knees give out. One collapsed to the floor with a thud, eyes wide as she stared at Lynsandra.

"She..." her lips quivered. "...dead...?"

"What? Did they kill her? Did she choke to death?" Murmurs spread through the club as Lynsandra lay motionless.

More people stumbled back, hearts sinking. "Did I just... watch someone die?"

They hadn’t expected the gang to kill her in front of everyone. But then again, they were known as the most violent faction for a reason.

"No," someone whispered, eyes shaking as she stared at Lynsandra’s leg slowly sliding limply. "She’s... dead...?"

The man who had emptied the bottle down her throat frowned. He grabbed her hair and lifted her head. She didn’t react.

"Huh? Did the bitch die? That fast?" He shook her again, but she just went limp.

He snorted, showing no remorse. Pulling the bottle from her mouth, he let go. Her head hit the floor with a thud.

"Fucking bitch," he scoffed, standing up. He looked around, smirking as the crowd recoiled wherever his gaze landed. "You’d better delete those videos, or I’ll come after you."

He laughed and turned to his men. "Let’s go take those three."

As if they hadn’t just killed someone in front of countless witnesses, they moved on. The three women didn’t resist anymore. They let themselves be dragged, eyes hollow as they stared at Lynsandra.

That would be their fate if they fought back.

Even though every instinct screamed at them to run, they didn’t. They couldn’t. They would die — and that fear held them still.

The club fell into heavy silence, broken only by the men’s voices and their brazen audacity. The crowd could only watch as they laughed, dragged three women away, and acted like they were above the law.

As the group walked past Lynsandra’s body, her brows twitched.

"What did you tell me about drinking?" she muttered.

Her voice was barely above a whisper. Yet everyone froze, eyes snapping back to her. Even the gang members dragging the women stopped.

"She’s still alive?" the man who had forced the vodka into her frowned. "So she was faking it?"

"She’s not that smart, is she?" another snorted. "She should’ve played dead until we left."

Others couldn’t help but silently agree.

Lynsandra slowly pushed herself up, a hand on her head as Enlly’s voice echoed faintly in her mind. Her eyes were half-lidded, brows tightening.

Then the corner of her mouth curled as her fingers slid through her hair.

"Drink moderately," she chuckled, answering her wolf. "Because drinking too much is bad... for others."

She lifted her head and met the gang’s eyes. Their faces were sharper now — clearer than before. She was drunker, yes. But not the kind of drunk anyone would want her to reach.

"Tch. Just drag her with us," the leader snapped in irritation. "She probably wants to join our party and have five dicks at once. Let’s give it to her."

The men laughed as one stepped forward to grab her. But just as he bent down to seize her shoulder... she was gone.

"Huh?" He frowned, confused. "She had been... right there."

Even the crowd rubbed their eyes.

"Did she just teleport or something?" someone muttered, but before anyone could react, her voice rang again.

"Five, huh?"

Everyone whipped their heads toward the source of the voice until their eyes landed on the bar counter.

"How did she—"

"I have seven waiting for me at home," she said lazily, one leg crossed over the other as she sat on the bar, hands resting on either side of her. "I can... eat men for breakfast."

Her eyelids drooped dangerously as she sensed fear spike from the man who’d tried to grab her.

In the blink of an eye, she was behind him.

She appeared midair, her palm pressing against the back of his head.

"Clench your teeth," a whisper echoed in the back of his head.

He froze as the chill of death crawled down his spine, and before he knew it, his nose shattered as his face slammed violently into the floor.