How to Tame My Beastly Husband

How to Tame My Beastly Husband — Chapter 120. Gruti (5)

“Oh, my God? Who are you working for? What dumbass uses a woman for drug dealing?”

Despite Annette’s fears, the woman wasn’t interested in her identity. Gruti-4 was a lawless area filled with gangs engaged in the drug trade. Most dealers wore hooded robes. It might almost be considered a sort of work uniform.

That was why the woman mistook Annette for a dealer, in her tattered tunic, and now she was only outraged that a drug lord would use a woman as a dealer, knowing it was so dangerous.

“No honor! How is any person so shameless in this business? Even if he thinks his people are disposable, it’s disgusting! This is too dangerous!”

The woman cursed the imaginary drug lord, clenching her cigarette between her fingers as the ashes fell on the found. Only then did Annette understand that even in the most lawless areas, there were still rules. One of them, apparently, was that drug dealers should be men. Drug addicts might do anything when they were high, and might offer sexual services even to men. And many addicts felt no pain, even when they were sliced open.

It would be far more dangerous for a woman to try to do such work. It wouldn’t even take two days for Annette to completely disappear, so even the Gruti-4 rats didn’t know what had become of her. The prostitute clicked her tongue at the pathetic drug dealer before her.

Poor thing. She probably got picked up by some ruthless gang.

Normally, she wouldn’t have had any interest in the dealer’s face, but somehow this time she was curious. Maybe just so she could identify the corpse, in the not-too-distant future. Of course, for her, identifying the corpse would also involve robbing it of anything of value.

The woman angled her head to look under Annette’s hood, revealing dark blue eyes. But before she could make out any details of her face, Annette pushed at her shoulders to stop her.

“Let me see your face,” the impatient woman said angrily. “Why are you trying to hide it? There’s lots of dealers around here, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Her loud voice drew a lot of attention, and others began to look.

“Ehren’s at it again,” someone nearby muttered. “She must be fiending.”

It seemed the prostitute’s neighbors knew her habits. An addict, and because of her long addiction, severe mood swings. Desperately, Annette fought to keep her hood in place to keep her face hidden. For once, her small stature was an advantage; the other woman couldn’t easily get a good look at her face.

“Forget it!” The woman spat as she gave up, grinding her teeth. “Like I care what you look like! Probably an ugly bitch, if you have to hide your face. Stop wasting my time and give me a hit and get out of here.”

But with everyone watching, Annette had to do something. Thinking quickly, she reached into a pocket. The woman watched her greedily.

“It’s a new product. I’ll let you try it for free,” she said, offering the small item in the palm of her hand. The woman cocked her head to one side as she saw it. She was used to drugs that were inhaled. She had never seen anything like this before.

What is that?

It was wrapped in a thin foil wrapper, so it didn’t look like it could be lit. The wrappers looked very expensive, but they couldn’t be; what would such a thing be doing in a slum like this? She must be wrong.

“How do you light these?”

“You don’t light them, you eat them. After you take the wrapper off, pop it in your mouth.”