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You could only see his teeth in the dark.

Everyone stared at Qin Guan for 30 seconds and gasped.

Batiste grabbed Qin Guan’s arm with shining eyes. "Are you a Drama Major? Why did you come to New York? You should have gone to France! We have the best drama schools!"

Naturally inclined to contradict the French, Joseph questioned his logic, "Broadway is in New York. He might be a dancer. Besides, Los Angeles is also in the US! What could Qin Guan do in France? Remain unpaid and go on strike with your labor union?"

"You motherf*cker! The Honor of Gaul Warriors will never be defended!"

Cella broke in, "I’ve never had dinner for free before. You treated me to food, so I’ll treat you to good music. We are all artists after all."

Who told you that I’m an artist? How can you tell that that’s my profession? By my appearance?

Before Qin Guan could speak, Cella went on to say, "I have a show tonight. You should come. Drinks are for free."

"You should dress up though. Your face is dangerous, and we have a dangerous audience."

Who would dare come to the show after you say something like that? Do you think I’m an idiot? What? Drinks are for free?

Joseph, who was an alcohol addict, suddenly turned to Qin Guan. "You are a stranger here, Qin Guan. You’ll get lost. I’ve been living in New York for many years. I’ll take you. It’ll be my pleasure!"

The French boys suddenly stood up. "Cella, you never invited us! We are also artists ourselves! We want to..."

"Wow! A background band! That’s what I call American culture! I want to go too! Here is the admission fee."

A golden foil was presented. It was a bribe from Congo.

Cella inserted the foil into her hammock calmly. Her generous cleavage swallowed it up. There was a beautiful snake tattoo on her breasts.

Qin Guan cast a glance at Cong Nianwei and saw his brave girlfriend watching the funny scene in high spirits. It seemed that he was the only one who would rather stay in bed with his girlfriend on his first day in the US.

Since everyone was interested in the show, Qin Guan agreed to go. He put on a pair of silly black-framed glasses before they left.

At the entrance of the building, Cong Nianwei and Qin Guan realized that Cella’s show was different from the ordinary.

The members of her band, most of whom were not Mexican, came to pick her up. They were driving a cool bubble car with prints of golden flames.

It was like a demon carriage from "Journey to the West". Qin Guan and Cong Nianwei followed the French brothers to their Volkswagen. We’d better stay with ordinary people.

After several turns, they arrived at the city center and parked in a large parking lot. Then they walked to the inner streets.

The roads were wet and slippery with waste everywhere. Compared to the business streets of New York, that area was much darker.

At the end of an alley, there was a small twinkling bulb, quite different from the exaggerated neon lights in the Japanese entertainment area. It had a restrained vibe to it.

They gathered at the entrance, where iron handrails were leading to the basement. A strong man was standing by.

He was a security guard. Even though it was dark, he was still wearing sunglasses. Every visitor had to be checked by him.

This was the tradition of such disorderly places. No guns or sharp weapons were permitted. That rule was for the protection of their customers.

They went in directly, because Cella was with them.

Qin Guan pushed the old iron gate open, feeling like he was opening Pandora’s box. The world inside was completely different from the one outside.

Sparkling neon lights were rotating on the high ceiling. Except for the lights on the stage, it was completely dark inside.

It took them some time to adapt to the low lights. They could hardly see anything in the chaotic, dark hall.

Rockers with rivets and metal pieces were making noise in the hot, dry environment.

The bar counter was the brightest place in the hall. Customers went there every now and then. They moved towards the normal-looking bartender subconsciously, trying to avoid people with rogue faces.

"In my tribe, they would be the best warriors."

"What do you mean?"

"In my tribe, tattoos on the face are a symbol of courage during hunting. Besides, the tattoos would scare big felids away. Any one of them could frighten two lions, in my opinion."

You could poison a lion with your words, my prince.

Only Joseph knew the place well enough to navigate through it with ease. He asked for a large glass of beer and enjoyed it by the counter.

Cong Nianwei was in Qin Guan’s embrace the whole time. For a good girl like her, this was a new experience.

The lights on the stage lit up and several drummers appeared. Cella was standing by the microphone. She was the lead vocalist of the band!

The whole audience was screaming, whistling and cheering. Cella was very popular in the club. Everyone went crazy during the prelude.

The band was playing heavy metal music, a valiant genre of rock music. Even the cement floor was trembling along with the rhythm.

Cella’s voice was a typical hoarse voice. Her friends, who knew nothing about music, were in awe of her. The crazy music cheered the audience up.