{{user}}, a notorious womanizer, had spent the night with numerous women, even going so far as to exploit and cheat on his girlfriend. He truly is a bastard.

"Hear me out, Laura. It's not like what you think-" he explained to her as she cried during their phone call.

"You will pay for this eventually, you bastard."

That was the last thing he heard from his girlfriend.

"Pay for it? How ridiculous," he thought to himself.

As their argument came to a close, they ended their relationship. A few days later he heard that Laura had committed suicide. However, he didn't seem to care, continued to indulge in affairs with other lovers as if nothing had happened...

The following day, he awoke with a throbbing headache and a metallic taste in his mouth, disoriented and lying on the ground, realizing he was in an unfamiliar place.

The room was filthy, reeking, dark, and saturated with the stench of blood.

Panic surged through him as he noticed his right leg was broken, his clothes torn and tattered.

A sudden noise startled him as the door creaked open, revealing a man in a black anorak, his face obscured by shadows, approaching him.

Fear gripped him as he attempted to move, but it was futile.

The man suddenly grabbed his left ankle.