At this, the younger guys were out of ideas and looked expectantly at Brian Clark.

Brian Clark said, “It’s fine, I think I’ve figured out that person’s taste. If I dress a bit more alternative and act crude, he definitely won’t be interested in me.”

With that, the group pulled out their phones and searched online for alternative “Shamate” styles. After flipping through a few photos, the younger guys all started chattering, giving Brian Clark advice on how to change his look—

“You need to wear clothes with holes. I’ll go to the shop next door and buy some scissors, cut your pants and shirt into rags.”

“Hair— you have to have the classic washed, cut, and blown rainbow colors. Your hair’s too short for a full salon job, but we can still try the rainbow. I’ll go to the barbershop next door and get some colored spray dye.”

“When you eat, smack your lips. When you talk, chew gum. I’ll go buy some gum.”

“You also need to wear flip-flops and scratch your belly! I’ll go buy flip-flops and a back scratcher.”

“……”

“……”

The younger guys all rushed out of the car to buy things, leaving Brian Clark sitting there dumbfounded. What on earth were these silly guys going to turn him into?

The younger guys came back with their chosen props to transform Brian Clark. They wore friendly smiles, their eyes full of sincerity, genuinely trying to help Brian Clark with their “wisdom.”

“Damn, you guys aren’t messing with me on purpose, are you? Eric Webb, put down that colored spray! If you touch my hair, I’ll kill you!” Brian Clark cried helplessly as the group closed in on him.

“The back scratcher is for the blind date, right? Why are you scratching my foot?”

Brian Clark struggled fiercely, and the SUV parked by the roadside shook violently under their efforts.

At this moment, Brian Clark realized that these guys weren’t trying to help him at all—they were just taking the chance to mess with him! Brian Clark desperately lunged for the car door, but Eric Webb said, “I’ve welded the door shut. Brian Clark is absolutely not getting out of the car today. Hehehe, boss, this is all for your own good!”

The car door was locked tight. Brian Clark struggled to open the window, trying to escape through it.

As soon as he stuck his head out the window, David Reed in the back used scissors to cut open his brand-new pants. Brian Clark shouted, “Are you even human? These are new pants—I’m wearing them for the first time today! Be gentle, you’re making my thigh bleed! Help!”

Brian Clark scrambled desperately toward the window, trying to escape his friends’ clutches. Just then, a tall figure appeared at the window, holding up a phone and saying to the struggling Brian Clark, “Do you need help?”

The car instantly fell silent.

The person outside looked in through the window and saw Brian Clark being held down by two people, while the other two—one was scratching his foot with a back scratcher, and the other was cutting his pants with scissors.

“Please stop what you’re doing, or I’ll call the police.” The person outside turned the phone around so everyone could see the screen, which displayed the number “110.”

Brian Clark gaped, staring blankly at the man’s handsome, righteous face. His mind went blank; he could only see those sexy lips moving, not hear a word the man was saying.

“I-I-I—we’re just joking around,” Eric Webb hurriedly said. “We’re all brothers. He… lost a game of truth or dare and is being punished, that’s all.”

“Is that true?” the person outside asked Brian Clark seriously.

“Heh,” Brian Clark gave a silly laugh, “What’s your name?”

“My name is Helen Grant. Is what they said true? If they’re threatening you, don’t be afraid—I’ll help you.” Helen Grant’s deep eyes looked at Brian Clark, giving him endless courage.

“Threatening, my ass!” Eric Webb said, exasperated. “He bullies us every day. We finally get a chance to get back at him, and now we’re being mistaken for criminals!”

To prove their innocence, Eric Webb pulled out his phone and opened his photo album, which was full of pictures of Brian Clark stepping on them. Eric Webb showed them all to Helen Grant, proving that they really were just a group of troublemaking friends.

Only then did Helen Grant nod hesitantly and say, a bit embarrassed, “Sorry, I misunderstood. But… even if you’re messing around, try not to use sharp objects. Someone could get hurt by accident.”

David Reed tossed the scissors aside and raised both hands. “I swear, from now on I’ll only use the back scratcher.”

“Sorry to bother you.” Helen Grant apologized to each of them from outside the car. After everyone accepted his apology, he walked past the car.

Brian Clark’s neck followed Helen Grant as he moved. He was halfway out the window before his friends dragged him back in.

Eric Webb said weakly, “It was so hard to finally get a chance to teach you a lesson, and we get mistaken for criminals. Lame.”

The younger guys also dejectedly put down their tools.

But Brian Clark was dazed for a moment, then gave a couple of silly laughs and patted Eric Webb on the shoulder in the driver’s seat. “Give me that rainbow spray. I want to try it.”

Eric Webb stared wide-eyed. “Are you one of those ‘my head can be cut off, but my hairstyle can’t be messed up’ types?”

“But I…” Brian Clark glanced out the window again. “I think I just fell in love at first sight… No, I have to ruin this blind date. After this meal, you guys have to help me find that guy!”

Because the boss fell in love with a passerby at first sight and decided to sabotage the blind date, the younger guys all worked together to turn Brian Clark into a full-on alternative “Shamate.”