The gentleman sitting opposite Sanchez was somewhat uneasy.
At first glance, Sanchez didn't seem like a good person. His face, head, hands, and wrists were covered in scars and tattoos. How could someone like this be a "good person"?
The gentleman wanted to switch seats but felt that suddenly changing seats might anger the gang member opposite him who had been staring at him all along. He could only continue pretending to read the newspaper.
"Hey, give me your newspaper."
The ferocious man opposite spoke. At first, the man reading the newspaper didn't realize what was happening, but then he nodded repeatedly, "Actually, I just finished reading it... so..."
He saw a one-dollar bill; he didn't know whether to take it or not. He initially thought this was just a fifty-cent "robbery," but now it seemed not only wasn't it a robbery, but he actually earned fifty cents.
