His thin knees pressed down, and immediately, fresh blood started to trickle from the cuts.
But he didn't make a sound. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, trying desperately to stay upright even as his whole body shook.
The guards laughed, mocking him, tossing pebbles at his head whenever he swayed.
Su Jiyai's nails dug into her palms. Rage boiled inside her, but she couldn't move, couldn't reach him yet.
The scene changed again.
Now, her brother was strapped to a cold metal table.
A man in a white coat leaned over him, holding a thick syringe filled with a strange glowing liquid.
The boy struggled weakly, but leather straps pinned his arms and legs down.
Without hesitation, the man jabbed the needle into his thin arm.
The boy screamed, high and sharp, as the liquid burned its way into his veins.
His back arched against the straps. His face twisted in agony. Sweat poured down his forehead, and tiny, broken sobs spilled from his lips.
