The police officer responded icily, “Alright then. You’re insulting aw enforcement officer! That means you’re openly resisting thew! Don’t be surprised if we take action against you!”


    Without hesitation, the officer pulled out his pepper spray, aiming it straight at Marcus’s face before releasing a cloud directly into his eyes.


    Marcus felt a searing pain in his eyes and instinctively raised his hands to rub them,pletely oblivious to the fact that doing so would reveal the two bloodied words etched onto his forehead.


    “Oh no…” eximed one of the officers. “Just look at him! He has words carved into his forehead!”


    “What kind of tattoo is that? It’s incredibly intense!”<h3 style="background-color:DodgerBlue">


    “Hahaha! No wonder this kid throws around insults like ‘pathetic jerk’—he literally has ‘pathetic jerk’ stamped on his forehead!”


    Hearing this, Marcus quickly raised his hands to cover his forehead. However, in the midst of all the chaos, his eyes were so swollen and painful that he didn’t notice several officers approaching him.


    Before he knew it, Marcus was pulled from the car and pushed to the ground by the police officers.


    One officer swiftly ced his hands behind his back and handcuffed him, ensuring he couldn’t escape or conceal the words “pathetic jerk” that marred his forehead.


    The officers then dragged Marcus and the stic face to the side of the road, instructing them to sit down. Afterward, one officer made a call back to the station to request a team to transport them for further questioning.


    Coincidentally, they were at the busiest intersection in the city center!


    Almost everyone passing by noticed the young man squatting by the roadside, his eyes red and swollen from the pepper spray. Yet, the real shock was the ring words carved into his forehead: “pathetic jerk.”


    Many onlookers pulled out their phones to snap pictures, leaving Marcus feeling utterly humiliated. In a desperate attempt to shield himself from their gaze, he jumped around, trying to turn his back to the crowd.


    But the police officer held him in ce and coldly stated, “Stay still. Don’t you enjoy calling everyone a pathetic jerk? Well, here’s your chance to show off those words to the public!”


    Marcus felt like he wanted to disappear…


    If he had known things would spiral out of control like this, he would have never insulted the van driver in the first ce. If only he had controlled his anger, he could have been home by now.


    At that moment, an old BMW pulled up to the curb. A young man stepped out and approached Marcus, asking, “Mr. Lloyd, what’s happening here? Ouch! What happened to you? Who put those words on your forehead?”<fn51f2> This text is hosted at find~novel</fn51f2>


    Desperately trying to hide his face and keep his head down, Marcus was startled when someone called him “Mr. Lloyd.” He wanted to vanish at that moment. Thest thing he needed was for someone to recognize him, yet here it was happening.


    Fuming with rage, he looked up at the young man, who seemed somewhat familiar, and demanded, “Who are you?”


    The man quickly replied, “I’m Harold! Harold from the Wilson family. We had lunch together recently with Gerald, the young lord of the White family. Don’t you remember me?”


    Grinding his teeth, Marcus red at Harold before spitting a mouthful of blood at him and snarling, “Get lost! You’re just a lowly member of the Wilson family, and you dare to confront me? Are you asking for trouble?”<h3 ss="has-text-align-center" id="chapter-list"><strong></strong>