Marcus lifted his head and saw the woman in front of him. The woman's face has such a thick layer of face powder that it was as if she had just come out of a flour mill. To be precise, she looked more like a zombie.

"Mila! How many times have I told you not to come to look for me again? Don't come looking for me again! Do you believe that I'll let you have no way out in South City if you come looking for me again?" Marcus looked at the woman in front of him with great disgust.

The woman who was called Mila had a broad smile on her face as she looked at Marcus incredibly ingratiatingly, "Master Marcus, well…can I buy you a cup of coffee? I…I just want to be your friend. I don't have any other intentions."

"Are you worthy enough?" Marcus looked at Mila with extreme disgust.

"There shouldn't be a distinction between noble and humble birth when it comes to friends, right?" Mila said.

"Friends are not divided into rich and poor, but there's a distinction between the noble and the lowly