Drip… drip…

The sound of water droplets hitting the ground echoed faintly. A chill breeze swept through the space.

Hank’s head throbbed dully, the sharp pain at the back of his skull making him suck in a sharp breath. He blinked open his eyes, squinting at the dim surroundings. Shadows swallowed the area whole, only faint glimmers revealing a vast, oval-shaped space—eerily like an arena.

“Ugh… my head… Where… where am I?”

Hank stared at the ground beneath his feet, dizziness still clouding his thoughts. He remembered shopping with Luo Er on the street earlier… then someone must have…

Drip… drip…

The dripping water echoed in his ears. The dropping temperature sent a shiver down his spine, clearing his foggy mind.

“What’s going on…?”

He reached back to touch the aching spot—but his arms wouldn’t move. A heavy weight pinned them down.

*Clank.*

Chains rattled beside him. Icy metal cuffs bit into his wrists, the cold seeping into his bones. The pull on his arms snapped him fully awake. He jerked his head up.

Thick, black iron shackles locked his wrists. He hung suspended from a wooden frame, like a condemned man awaiting execution.

“What the hell?! How did I get here?!”

Fully alert now, Hank roared, yanking desperately at the chains. But his strength meant nothing against links as thick as thighs. No matter how he struggled, the chains didn’t budge. His resistance was pathetic. Exhausted, he panted heavily, glaring around with burning eyes.

He’d been ambushed. But by whom? And where was Luo Er? That kid should’ve been with him.

*Whoosh!*

Blinding light flooded the arena. Hank winced, his eyes stinging.

“Well, well~ Look who’s here!”

A shrill voice cut through the glare. Hank forced his eyes open.

A slick-haired man in gaudy robes grinned wickedly. He had an arm draped around each of two slender boys—barely fifteen, their pale skin marred by bruises. Only tattered triangles of cloth covered their groins. Their eyes were hollow, faces ashen. Bruises covered their arms, stomachs, thighs—signs of brutal, repeated abuse.

“Remember me, Mr. Hank?” The man smirked up at Hank, dangling like a dead dog. A gold tooth glinted in the light. “Ah, right—you wouldn’t know me. First time meeting, after all. But this’ll ring a bell: those ten carriages you hijacked on the main road two months ago? *Mine.* I’m Lafas.”

Lafas chuckled, his thick fingers digging into a boy’s thigh. A fresh bruise bloomed instantly under his grip. The boy flinched, his numb body trembling.

“Who told you to flinch, beast?!” Lafas snarled. He yanked the boy’s hair and hurled him to the ground. Then he kicked the curled-up form mercilessly, like it was less than livestock.

“Nngh…”

A choked whimper escaped the boy’s lips. His already pale face turned ghostly white.

“Yes! That’s it! Scream! Bark like the dog you are!” Lafas crowed, grabbing an iron rod from the floor. He raised it high.

“STOP! You madman! You’ll kill him!” Hank roared, straining against his chains until the wood groaned. *Damn it! What is this monster doing to that kid?!* “Hey! You there! Your friend’s being beaten! Stop him before he dies!”

The other boy lifted his head. His dead eyes flickered toward Hank, then back to his suffering companion. A flicker of despair crossed his hollow gaze. A bitter smile twisted his cracked lips.

“It’s his own fault,” he whispered. “He disobeyed Master…”

“You… what did you say…?” Hank whispered back, frozen. *These kids… their minds are already broken…*