"What's the point of fussing over her? At most, she's just seeking sympathy, she won't die. Let her bleed a bit more, can't the Big Boss see through her little schemes?"
"Such an act, truly dramatic..."
The conversation of the two men delivered a critical hit to Fristy Davis, and suddenly she felt a tinge of regret. Far from mending anything, she had put herself in real danger.
She didn't want to die, truly didn't want to die.
She hadn't lived enough, and everything she desired was yet to be obtained; how could she die, she who was favored by Heaven?
This was not as she had anticipated. The wealth and glory she had finally acquired had not been enjoyed to the fullest. She couldn't just die so easily.
As Fristy Davis realized this, she had already lost too much blood and began to slip into semi-consciousness.
She opened her mouth to shout, "Save... save... me."
The bodyguard outside laughed.
"See? She's begging for help now."
"Tsk, knew it, just putting on a show."