Amy shrugged, feigning ignorance, "Really? To be honest, what is 'fun'? I really don't know, I'm truly sorry."
"Fun means you can take off your clothes and let me appreciate you properly."
Amy clenched her fist, "Del, I have bad news for you: I'm not a hooker, nor am I the kind of streetwalker you think I am. So, put away your filthy thoughts! I don't do one-night stands, and I'm not for sale!"
She tried to suppress her anger, afraid she might accidentally kill Del.
Del tightened his jaw, "But you owe me money, this is a reasonable request for a transaction!"
"I'll give it to you, but not now!"
Amy and Del confronted each other, and the atmosphere instantly became tense.
The next second, Amy was pushed into the room by Del.
Describing Del's movements as quick as a leaping rabbit would be most appropriate.
He threw a punch at Amy.
But in Amy's eyes, this guy's movements weren't very fast.
She threw a punch, and Del fell backward onto his back.
Del's eye was hit hard by Amy's punch!
Capillaries ruptured, and he felt the world spinning, countless little stars revolving around his head non-stop.
He gasped for breath, struggling to get up from the floor.
Amy hadn't used much force in that punch, so Del only sustained some superficial injuries.
"You bitch!"
Del prepared to punch again.
Amy took a defensive stance.
But then, suddenly, Del stopped moving.
He just stood there blankly, trembling all over.
Sadness, confusion, or anger? Amy couldn't tell.
"Click!"
The alarm clock on the nightstand pointed to 11 o'clock.
It was an old-fashioned alarm clock, taking half a day to advance a single digit, accompanied by a crisp "click" sound.
Del felt as if everything around him had been shut off.
Darkness and cold enveloped him.
He could only hear the "click" of the alarm clock, and that sound seemed to be amplified countless times, so piercing.
Immediately after, his body tensed up, becoming rigid.
His knees buckled, his upper body crashed down, his head nearly hitting the corner of the dressing table.
At the same time, he let out a suffocating scream.
Amy was startled and took a step back; she didn't know what had happened.
She had only given him a punch; it couldn't be that serious, could it?
Del didn't fall to the ground but knelt, his upper body stiff.
Then, his back suddenly arched, and his shoulder blades hit the carpet heavily.
Amy rubbed her eyes.
She seemed to still be processing what was happening before her.
A gurgling sound came from Del's throat, his cheeks turned beet red, and then began to purple.
He seemed to be desperately trying to breathe, but his airway seemed blocked, unable to inhale any air.
He turned purple, gasping like a fish out of water.
"What's wrong with you? Should I call an ambulance?"
Amy finally reacted; perhaps his illness had flared up.
She hurriedly ran to the counter, pulled out her phone, and prepared to call an ambulance.
Del, lying on the floor, began to foam at the mouth, and the rupture of capillaries made his eyes bloodshot.
His tensed body began to relax. At this point, he had lost all will to fight; his slender body became limp, his head tilted at a terrifying angle, his face pressed against the floor.
Then, an even more unexpected scene occurred.
The cockroach hiding under the bed suddenly scurried out for some reason; it climbed over Del's twisted upper lip like it was climbing a ladder, and its plump little body quickly burrowed into one of Del's nostrils in a couple of movements.
Amy gasped, her body trembling uncontrollably.
She wanted to apologize to Del, but a wave of nausea rose in her stomach.
After giving the doctor the address over the phone, she hung up, ran to the bathroom, and began to vomit into the toilet.
"Did I kill someone?!"
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