The sun burned over her without mercy, as she stood in the bushes. The yellow field had turned red. Bodies lay scattered at different angles, still and lifeless. She was a girl of about ten years old, her small face covered in bruises, wearing a white dress now stained red, while her long brown hair lay in a mess. Her eyes didn’t move. A dusty jeep stood a short distance away, and three armed men sat inside, rifles resting across their laps. The one in the middle grinned darkly, revealing his rotten teeth, then aimed his pistol at her. The girl stayed motionless, though her breath quickened. A gunshot exploded across the field. --- Her eyes snapped open, light meeting her above. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she lay on the bed, a non-rebreather mask pressed tightly against her face, and a heart monitor beside her. A soft sound broke the silence as the door opened, and a girl in a nurse’s uniform stepped inside. She quietly closed the door and walked toward the bed. She g

The brown-skinned girl, her long curly hair tied into a bun, wearing a nurse's uniform, walked into the ward. Nurse Natalie checked on Reina's condition, then filled in her notebook. She looked at Reina again and sighed deeply. "Things are getting difficult. Get your ass out of here soon." After checking on her, Natalie stepped out. She closed the door behind her and stopped, a little startled by the sight of a girl standing there. She was a teenage girl, about seventeen, dressed in a school uniform. Her hair was cut into a bob, with bangs covering her forehead. Her eyes were blank as she stared at the door. "Be honest," the girl asked, her voice flat. "She won't wake up, right?" Natalie sighed. "Hanae, no one knows her better than you. Do you think she would let herself die?" "She looks... too pathetic. Anyone could harm her, and she wouldn't even know." She gazed at the nurse's face. "I heard you're returning to France. Now that my sister is like this, it seems ever

Everything was a blur to Michelle. In one moment, she felt that dagger was about to sink into her; the next moment, someone helped her, if help was what happened. When Yushen left, Lian scoffed. Three hours? He had even failed to find out about himself from her in months. He just couldn't see her get stabbed. He approached her from behind as he told himself, "Lian, you better have a good excuse to tell Yushen." Michelle flinched when he did that. But then the pressure on her wrists loosened. The same went for her legs. That guy untied her. He was helping her? Why? Wasn't he in the same group as Celine's brother? Lian removed the chair, which was already broken. Michelle, with a struggle, helped herself sit up and leaned against the wall. Through her swollen eyes, she looked at Lian. Then Lian crouched beside her and lit his cigarette. "It's been a while," Lian said. Thinking about it, Reina hadn't disappeared from him as he thought; instead, she was in a coma. Fuck! Why am I r

The rider, clad in a sleek black jumpsuit and reflective helmet, moved with the assured grace of someone who knew she was in control. Even without seeing her face, Lian could sense it—it was a woman. One look at the customized bike and the way she dressed, he had a good guess who it might be. He smiled faintly, though wariness lingered behind his eyes. The woman reached out, handing him a spare helmet without a word. A flicker of recognition sparked within him, and without hesitation, he grabbed it, slipping it on before hopping behind her. She revved the engine, and the bike shot forward, leaving Jake and his men scrambling to their car, cursing as they tried in vain to catch up. Within seconds, the city blurred around them as she wove through traffic effortlessly, the wind whipping past them. By the time they reached the outskirts, Jake and his crew were nothing more than a memory. The bike skidded to a stop outside a quiet restaurant, and Lian dismounted, still reeling from

Her eyes fluttered briefly before snapping open, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She scanned the unfamiliar room, her gaze locking onto the IV tube attached to her hand. She was in a hospital gown. The last thing she remembered was being in that hotel room—a trap, she realized now, expertly set. Her brow furrowed. Whoever was behind it hadn’t wanted to kill her right away. They wanted her alive for something worse. But who was it? The thought gnawed at her, an uneasy feeling tightening in her chest. She wasn’t afraid of him but the uncertainty unsettled her. She had to leave. Now. She tried to move but a sharp pain shot through her stomach, forcing a grimace. Pulling the gown aside, she saw the bandage. Of course, she thought. But if she fell into that man’s hands, this wound would be the least of her concerns. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself out of bed. She pulled the IV as she sat up, blood dripping to the floor. She ignored it, staggering toward the window, one hand