Desperate Plea

"Ughhh!"

"Stay still."

Shen Xinghui had no time to process who his captors were or how many of them there might be.

A cloth was pressed tightly over his mouth, and the chemical smell filled his lungs.

Almost immediately, his head began to spin.

...Ignatius.

His consciousness wavered forcibly, leaving him powerless.

Arms, rough and unfamiliar, caught his collapsing body.

He couldn't hold on any longer and let go of his awareness.

When Shen Xinghui came to, he found himself lying on a bed somewhere unfamiliar.

His arms were bound tightly.

As he struggled to free them, the rope bit into his skin, sending waves of numb pain, but the knots wouldn't budge.

"Well, looks like you're awake," a gruff voice remarked.

A stocky man with a scruffy beard approached.

His muscular frame and lack of cleanliness made him imposing.

Shen Xinghui could only stare, his throat too dry to speak.