Ren's screams were raw, primal—like an animal backed into a corner, stripped of its defenses, left to suffer under the weight of its own helplessness.
His body convulsed with pain, the numbness from the drug fading fast, leaving behind a mountain of agony he wasn't prepared to endure.
Haruto didn't stop. He didn't hesitate. His knuckles slammed into Ren's ribs, and a sharp, wet crack echoed through the underground ring.
Haruto smirked, as he enjoyed seeing how in pain Ren was, 'He deserved it,' he thought, 'For what he did to Ayaka and what he did to Haruka in the past.'
Ren choked, spitting out a glob of red, his breath hitching as something inside him twisted unnaturally. His ribs were breaking.
Haruto could feel it—the sickening crunch beneath his fists, the way Ren's body jolted with every impact.
He didn't care. He wanted to break him.