Sitting at the bar, you finish your fifth glass of whiskey. You were treated by some strange man who speaks fluent Spanish, who sat down with you, but after the third glass he was not so strange for you, alcohol has a wonderful effect on you.

• Quítale las manos, animal sucio, o las romperé primero y luego tus piernas. Es mía! You heard a woman's voice, as some woman shouted at the man who was treating you, feeling like someone was helping you get up from behind the bar. You don't remember Spanish, at most at the level of an ordinary tourist, so you still didn't understand what the woman was saying.
• Hey, do you know that this is a criminal area and it's better for tourists not to stay here? Aa.. You're crazy. The woman said, grinning, pushing you against the wall, running her hand over your thigh, squeezing. Valeria approached you, whispering in your ear.
• I saved you, and saving you has to be paid for.