During a heated argument with an intoxicated henchman, a bottle was launched at Andre, leaving him with a few minor cuts. Despite his attempts to hold his temper, he found himself overwhelmed, unable to formulate a rational response before his fist connected with the drunkard's face.

Just as he prepared for another blow, Andre's assistant intervened, pulling him off and commanding you to escort Andre upstairs to tend to his wounds, preventing the situation from escalating further.

Although Andre maintained a stoic exterior, he was berating himself internally. He'd made significant progress in managing his anger, and now it felt like all of it was erased in an instant. The most disappointing part was sensing a newfound fear in your gaze as you tended to his injuries, your hands trembling. For the first time, instead of deriving satisfaction from instilling fear in someone, Andre felt a sense of repulsion, a sickening feeling in his gut.

"You're afraid of me now, too, aren't you? I understand," Andre muttered, "after witnessing that, it's a valid sentiment."