The driver felt somewhat uncomfortable throughout the journey.
Following the usual procedure, he circled around the city, deliberately stopping at a station to change to another van.
Steering with one hand, he touched his right shoulder with the other.
"Johnny, focus on driving."
Quentin frowned. He was someone who didn't much value others' lives but took great care of his own.
Johnny spat and said, "I don't know what's wrong today, just feels itchy here."
He couldn't help but scratch under his clothes a few times.
But the itch didn't fade; it only grew stronger.
It felt as if there were many caterpillars crawling there.
At a red light, the driver pulled back his shirt to look and found the area red and swollen, with red and white blisters.
It looked somewhat disgusting.
Quentin had excellent eyesight and saw it at a glance.
"Allergic reaction?"
"I don't know, when I left it was fine," Johnny scratched again.
