Rory gave Brett a cold glare and lifted his leg to kick Barry away. Then, he coughed, hacking up a wad of spit onto his own leather shoe.
"100 thousand dollars, you say? No problem. If you lick the spit clean, I'll give you double. How's that?" A sinister look crept onto Rory's face.
He hadn't expected Barry to turn up, this matter would paint a bad image of him in the eyes of his other classmates.
Barry stared at the disgusting wad of spit on Rory's shoe, and his body began to tremble even harder. But thinking of his son, he lay on the floor and closed his eyes, leaning toward the shoe.
There were mixed reactions from the table.
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