The man immediately stopped his actions after hearing Jemima's cry. He got up from Sam's body, and Ian, who was scared, stumbled back, while Mat, whose hand was injured earlier, quickly moved Sam's body, intending to leave the place, abandoning the squalid street.

After the departure of the three men, the mysterious man sat down exhausted. He looked weary, and after a while, his body fell and he lay unconscious.

"Hey, wake up. What happened?" Jemima asked, confused about what to do.

Suddenly, a few homeless people walked towards her. Jemima felt very frightened, assuming they would attack her.

"Quickly call an ambulance or a taxi, Miss."

"Yes, your helper must be seriously injured."

Jemima felt relieved as it turned out the homeless people were coming to help her. However, Jemima felt slightly annoyed. Why did none of the homeless people help her when she was attacked, except for this one person?

‘Ah, what a fool!’Jemima scoffed to herself. She immediately called an ambulance, and a few minutes later, the paramedics arrived and took her and her helper away from the place.

Upon arrival at the hospital, Jemima and the man were immediately treated, but only the man received an IV and serious treatment due to the severity of his wounds.

That evening, Jemima stayed at the hospital to wait for her helper to regain consciousness. She did not want to leave her helper without expressing gratitude or repaying the favor.

The next day, the man woke up feeling confused because his shabby clothes were no longer clinging to his body. Now, he was in a strange set of sleepwear. There was a tube in his hand and several bandages covering his body, and he realized he was being treated in a hospital.

"What happened to me?" he muttered.

The man looked around, his head still hurting and his mind muddled. As he tried to get up, he felt a firm grip on his hand. He glanced to the side and saw a woman sleeping next to him, holding his hand tightly, her head resting on the edge of the bed where she was now sleeping.

The man gathered his senses and tried to remember who the girl was.

"Sa-sa-rah..." he called softly.

The girl's face slowly turned up, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"Are you awake? How do you feel now? Do you still feel pain in other parts of your body?" asked Jemima enthusiastically.

The man looked disappointed that the woman was not Sarah. He didn't want to respond and instead rested his head back on the edge of the bed.

Why him? Was my talk too formal? Jemima thought, furrowing her brow and rubbing her face which had just awakened from sleeping.

"You can go home when you're fully conscious," she mumbled.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Jemima asked.

"Where do you live? Let me take you home?" she continued.

The man looked confused as to how to respond.

"Ah! What's the point of me babbling on, you probably don't have a place to stay." Jemima muttered, rising from her seat, she looked tired, trying to relax her waist from the stiffness and aches.

"Wear these clothes, hopefully they fit," she said while handing him a black plastic bag containing a top, a furry winter jacket, jeans, and innerwear for men.

The man she spoke to seemed somewhat slow.

"Hey, put them on quickly. The hospital bills will increase if you linger like this," Jemima urged as she prepared to tidy up her clothes.

Upon hearing the word 'bills,' the man became self-aware. Even for someone he had helped, his life was not worth this hospital bill. Seeing the change in the man's face, Jemima felt sorry. She didn't intend to hurt his feelings or belittle his self-worth.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Not a big deal," cut the man while pulling out the IV needle still attached to his arm.

"Hey, that should have been done by a nurse!" exclaimed Jemima with a grimace.

"Sloppy!" she grum.

The man didn't care; he quickly changed his clothes. The outfit fit perfectly as if the woman had measured his body before buying the clothes for him.

"Are you a pervert?" The man's unexpected question surprised Jemima.

"What did you say?" she responded angrily, briefly glancing at the man, who was now shirtless. Jemima turner face away and returned to her original position.

"Where are my old clothes?" the man asked, indifferent to her unanswered question.

"Threw them away."

"Stinks!"

The man could only mumble 'O,' appearing at a loss for words. While Jemima was still wondering about the man calling himself a pervert.

"Done," the man stated.

Jemima turned around, and the man stood before her in his well-fitted new clothes. Impressed by the transformation from the shabby man of the night before to a handsome man, Jemima was captivated.

"Wait, those clothes fit perfectly. Do you think I measured you for the clothes?" Jemima asked, confirming.

The man's expression remained neutral; he pretended not to care if the girl was confused, letting her draw her own conclusions.

"Why does torturing someone always have to involve physical violence?" thought the man with a k.

"Let's go home," Jemima invited after everything was settled.

The man nodded and walked ahead.

"Hey, not that way," Jemima stopped him.

"Where to?" the man asked, confused.

"Anywhere, except if you have your own place," Jemima answered, looking at her helper.

"Just kidding. Come with me. You're free to leave when you feel better," she continued.

The man nodded and scratched his non-itchy head. Eventually, he decided that for now, he would once again act shamelessly, especially since he had no money at all. Furthermore, hungry and still felt stiff.

In contrast, Jemima felt guilty about leaving the man at the original location among the homeless. Especially after witnessing the transformation of her helper into someone quite attractive with just a simple makeover.

Unbeknownst to the man, Jemima started thinking mischievous thoughts.

"Shoo, shoo, shoo!" Jemima ushered someone away while waving her hands.

"Are you shooing me away?" the man asked.