Chapter 692 Zhao Shuo can really endure the torment of the playboys. It lasted from six o'clock in the evening until eight o'clock in the night, a full two hours. From forcing him to drink and sing to verbal humiliation, the methods were constantly being updated, but Zhao Shuo endured it all from beginning to end. Even when he was soaked to the bone and insulted to the point of being humiliated, he did not dare to resist in the slightest.
In the end, even Wang Teng and his gang of playboys who enjoyed torturing people lost interest—this kid was just too patient, to the point that they were all bored.
Wang Teng leaned back on the sofa, playing with the video of Zhao Shuo's disheveled state that he had taken on his phone. A playful smile appeared on his lips as he couldn't help but wonder to himself—back then, when Goujian and Jia Baoliang endured their hardship in the cold cave, did they watch Zhao Shuo suffer through it all?
He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a dog, his tone impatient:
"Alright, alright, this is so boring, let him get lost."
The other spoiled brats echoed this sentiment, packing their things to leave without giving Zhao Shuo another glance. It was as if the person they had just humiliated was not a person, but merely a disposable toy.
Zhao Shuo felt as if he had been granted a pardon, but he dared not relax in the slightest. He dragged his heavy steps and walked out of the VIP box, soaking wet.
Wine dripped from the soaked hem of his suit, leaving a trail of dark water stains on the carpet in the hallway. His hair was disheveled and stuck to his cheeks, making him look utterly wretched.
At the end of the corridor outside the private room, the assistant was playing on her phone, carrying a hangover soup prepared for Zhao Shuo.
The moment she saw Zhao Shuo come out, she froze, almost dropping the hangover soup in her hand. She stood there dumbfounded, her eyes wide open, at a loss for what to do.
What's going on?
When she went in, her boss was all smiles and told her that the people inside were big shots from Beijing, his "good brothers" who had come to welcome her. How did she end up like this?
Zhao Shuo's expression was extremely ugly at this moment. His face was ashen, and his eyes were bloodshot, like a wild beast about to go berserk.
He glared fiercely at his assistant, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded, filled with barely suppressed anger:
"I'm going to the bathroom first. Right now, immediately, and as fast as you can, go buy me a clean set of clothes!"
He paused, his tone unmistakably threatening: "Remember, slow down, or I'll shoot you!"
The assistant trembled at his fierce appearance. She had originally wanted to go forward and clean the wine stains off his face, but now she didn't dare to make any move and quickly nodded, "Okay, okay, Brother Shuo, I'll go right now!"
After saying that, she put the hangover soup on the table next to her, turned around and ran towards the elevator, her steps hurried, afraid that if she was a step too slow, she would really be fired.
Zhao Shuo watched her run away before walking step by step toward the restroom at the end of the corridor.
Every step I took on the carpet felt like carrying a thousand pounds of humiliation, and the anger in my chest was about to burst forth.
Fortunately, this floor was booked by Wang Teng and his group. Apart from him and his assistant, there was no one else, so there was no need to worry about outsiders seeing him in such a disheveled state.
Upon entering the bathroom, which was equipped with a hot shower, Zhao Shuo went straight to the sink and turned on the cold water tap.
The icy tap water gushed out, and he scooped it up with both hands, splashing it on his face again and again. The biting cold made him shiver, but it did nothing to extinguish the fire in his heart; on the contrary, it made his anger burn even more fiercely.
He looked at his disheveled self in the mirror, his hair wet and plastered to his face, his suit soaked through and clinging to his body, outlining an unsightly silhouette, his eyes filled with humiliation and resentment.
Two hours of torture, the taunts of the rich kids, the humiliation of having alcohol poured over his head... all these scenes replayed in his mind, making him want to explode on the spot.
After some time, there was a rapid knocking on the bathroom door, and then the assistant rushed in, looking travel-worn, carrying several bags from clothing brands.
She was panting heavily as she placed the bags one by one on the sink. Just as she was about to speak, she noticed that Zhao Shuo hadn't moved at all. He was just staring straight at her, the desire in his eyes burning brighter and brighter like a flame.
"I'm really angry right now," Zhao Shuo said, his voice low and hoarse, carrying an unsettling ambiguity.
"Come and cool me down."
"Cure...cool down?" The assistant was completely dumbfounded. She wasn't a clueless child; she instantly understood what Zhao Shuo meant, and all the color drained from her face.
She looked at Zhao Shuo in disbelief and asked in a trembling voice, "W-what's this 'cooling down'? Brother Shuo, are you drunk?"
Zhao Shuo didn't say anything more, but showed his thoughts through his actions.
He slowly raised his hand and began to undo his soaked waistband, his movements slow but undeniably forceful.
The assistant's eyes twitched uncontrollably, and a surge of anger instantly rose from the bottom of his heart and rushed to the top of his head.
She couldn't hold back any longer, and suddenly pulled out her phone, smashing it with all her might towards Zhao Shuo's face!
"Snap!" A crisp sound rang out as the phone struck Zhao Shuo squarely between the eyebrows.
Zhao Shuo winced in pain, letting out a muffled groan. He instinctively took a few steps back, clutching his forehead and wincing in pain.
Taking advantage of his retreat, the assistant quickly rushed over, picked up the phone from the ground, spat it on the ground, and her eyes were full of contempt and anger.
"What the hell! Does he really think he's someone important? I don't want his salary, keep it for your mother's grave!"
After venting her anger, she didn't dare linger—after all, there weren't many people on this floor, and it would be too dangerous for a girl like her to stay here alone. She turned and ran towards the bathroom exit, her steps quick, and soon disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Zhao Shuo clutched his reddened forehead, staggered a few times, and finally his legs gave way, causing him to collapse dizzily onto the bathroom floor.
The cool floor against his back helped him clear his head a little. To be honest, that last bit of anger really did subside.
Because my consciousness had also diminished considerably, my head felt dizzy and lightheaded.
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