Dean took out his phone and gently swiped his finger across the screen, searching for a contact from the Dragon Gang. Each name that passed in front of his eyes made his heartbeat quicken a little more. Finally, he landed on a familiar name—Damon. At the sight of it, Dean’s heart skipped a beat, and his finger came to a halt. He hesitated, memories flooding back like a tidal wave, memories that were tangled and unresolved, ones that made him want to avoid Damon at all costs.He pulled the phone slightly away from his face, lost in thought. No, he couldn’t do this. After all the effort it took to escape from Damon’s grasp, seeking him out again would be like walking straight into a trap. Dean shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away. He couldn’t do it—not now, not ever.Suddenly, his gaze landed on another name—Leo. Yes, Leo! A spark of relief flickered across Dean’s face, and his mood lightened a little. Leo was a trustworthy friend, and perhaps he could help. Without a seco
Dean nodded slowly. "That's right. I was originally trying to reach Leo, but Damon ended up answering. Then he suggested..." He glanced at Chen's face, surprised to see no sign of displeasure.It was unexpected. Seeing that Chen didn't ask any further questions, Dean gathered his courage and asked, "Chen, would it be alright if I went out to meet Leo? Also, could Leo come to stay here for a few days?"Chen paused, setting his chopsticks down, and looked at Dean seriously. Then he gave a response that caught Dean off guard: "Yes, and no."Dean blinked, unsure of what that meant. "What do you mean?""You can go meet Leo," Chen explained, "but Leo can’t come here."Dean felt a rush of happiness when he heard that he could meet Leo, but his heart sank a little when he heard that Leo couldn’t stay at the house. Despite his disappointment, he was still satisfied with Chen’s response. After all, he knew he couldn’t expect Chen to fulfill every one of his wishes.Chen noticed every shift in D
Damon walked unhesitatingly to a corner of the restaurant, choosing a seat with a clear view of Dean. What unsettled Dean the most was that Damon didn’t order anything. He rested his hands leisurely on the table, his eyes fixed unrelentingly on Dean. That gaze wasn’t hostile, nor was it provocative; it carried a deeper weight—an intense scrutiny mixed with an almost unsettling focus. The restaurant staff, clearly intimidated by Damon's commanding presence, kept their distance, none daring to approach or interrupt him.Dean’s mind raced, a torrent of thoughts flooding through him. He had no idea what Damon’s next move might be. Would he suddenly make a scene and forcibly drag Dean away? Or worse, was Leo somehow working with Damon and had lured him into a trap? The invisible pressure bore down on him, every muscle in his body taut with tension. But Dean knew he couldn’t afford to panic. He needed to stay composed and craft the perfect response, and quickly.Leo’s voice broke through hi
Leo hesitated visibly at Dean's request, a flicker of unease crossing his face. His gaze wavered as though weighing his thoughts carefully. Finally, he spoke, though his voice carried an unmistakable note of caution and worry."Dean," he began, the words measured and deliberate, "I can’t make decisions on Damon’s behalf. To be honest, I’m not even sure what’s on his mind right now. Maybe these attacks he orchestrated aren’t just about finding you—" He paused abruptly, uncertain whether to continue, the weight of his own speculation visibly holding him back.Dean’s eyes never left him, sharp and probing, silently pressing Leo to go on. Leo took a deep breath, as though steeling himself, before pressing forward."Actually," he admitted, his voice lower now, "I’m worried Damon might have his own agenda. You know... Ch—" He caught himself mid-word, visibly startled by his own slip. He had been about to utter the name "Chen" but swiftly corrected course. "That man," he continued carefully,
Hearing this, Damon turned to Leo, a flicker of puzzlement crossing his eyes. "You’re really hungry?" His tone carried a hint of impatience, as though Leo’s suggestion had disrupted the rhythm of his thoughts.Leo froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Just as he was about to speak, Damon cut him off, calling out to the waiter with a commanding voice: "Waiter, bring out all the cooked food you have. The kid’s starving." His words were blunt and forceful, radiating an unmistakable sense of authority that felt almost oppressive.Meanwhile, Chen wasn’t idle. Turning to the waiter, he said gently, "Could you please bring this gentleman a cup of hot chocolate?" His words, though brief, were imbued with warmth and genuine care. Dean, noticing Chen’s considerate gesture, felt a faint sense of comfort, though it starkly contrasted with Damon’s cold and domineering demeanor.As Chen’s quiet act of kindness played out, Damon’s expression darkened even further. His brows knitted tightly,
Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself before addressing Leo. “It seems we’re not getting anywhere here,” he said decisively. “Leo, how about this—you come to stay with me. No, scratch that, go stay at Chen’s place for a few days. We’ll get some time to catch up.” His tone carried a certain finality, as though this was the only viable solution. Dean’s true aim was clear: to get Leo out of this tense environment, even if temporarily, and to carve out some uninterrupted time to reconnect.Leo glanced at Chen nervously, his unease plain to see. “I… I’ll be safe there, right?” he asked hesitantly. There was a flicker of doubt in his voice, betraying his uncertainty about Chen’s intentions and whether staying at his place would truly offer refuge or plunge him deeper into danger.Dean rolled his eyes with exasperation, his patience wearing thin. Standing up, he reached over and gave Leo a light pat on the head, a gesture somewhere between reassurance and admonishment. “If it wasn’t safe
When they arrived at the new residence, the butler was already waiting outside. The house was even more refined and peaceful than the one Dean had stayed in before, with an understated elegance that immediately put him at ease. It was clear that this place had been chosen with thought, as if it was designed for a temporary sanctuary, for moments like these when Dean needed refuge.Under normal circumstances, Dean knew they would have taken time to show Leo around, to let him get a feel for the place. But Chen, without missing a beat, immediately handed Leo off to the butler with a few curt instructions before briskly ushering Dean inside. Leo looked a little taken aback by the sudden shift but didn’t question it. He simply followed the butler into the house, leaving Chen and Dean to retreat into the quiet of the residence.Dean was still hesitating, unsure whether it was appropriate to bring Leo along, and had just instructed the butler to call for him. As he pondered whether this was
Leo let out a deep breath before answering, his tone carrying a hint of something complex, perhaps even unease. "Chen carried you back to your room," he said, his words weighed down by the emotion in his voice. Noticing the confused look still on Dean’s face, Leo continued, his voice a little more tentative. "I was worried that Chen might take advantage of the situation, so I followed him, just to see if he’d do anything strange."A faint, awkward smile appeared on Leo's face as if he were trying to justify his actions. But the smile quickly faded as he became serious again. "But when I saw him, he just made sure you were settled and then left your room almost immediately. He didn’t do anything. So, I went back to my room and went to sleep, relieved."Dean listened carefully to Leo’s explanation, trying to piece together the fragments of his own memories from the night before. Chen carried him back to his room. He couldn’t remember that at all. But, from Leo’s description, and the fac
The doctor hesitated for a moment before responding, "Psychotherapy is the most effective method. Through gradual and guided intervention, he can slowly unlock the parts of his mind that are closed off and begin to recall the memories that have been forgotten.""Is there a faster way?" Shawn's tone grew urgent, laced with a suffocating intensity that pressed down like a heavyweight.The doctor remained silent for a moment before finally speaking. "Hypnosis might be an option. Through hypnosis, it could be possible to directly access his subconscious and uncover the blocked memories. However, this method carries significant risks. If not handled properly, it could cause even greater psychological harm."Shawn fixed the doctor with a cold, unyielding stare as if weighing the pros and cons. After a long silence, he nodded slightly and spoke in a low voice, "The risks of hypnosis don’t concern me. I only want to know one thing—can he recover those memories through it?"The doctor replied
The sound of fabric tearing filled the room, and Dean’s already tattered shirt finally gave way, leaving him exposed to the biting chill of the air. Despair clawed at him, almost overwhelming. He shook his head frantically, trying to stop what was happening, but Shawn paid no attention to his futile struggles.Shawn walked over to the shelves, selecting several clips with deliberate precision. Returning to the bed, he began placing them on Dean’s body, one by one. His movements were disturbingly practiced, each action methodical and calm, sending a shiver of terror down Dean’s spine.Shawn didn’t stop there. What little remained of Dean’s clothing was swiftly torn away, leaving him entirely exposed. From the assortment of items on the shelves—vibrators, wands, and other devices—Shawn began to gather them with an unsettling calmness.One by one, he positioned them near Dean’s most vulnerable and sensitive areas, each placement deliberated, as if orchestrating a cruel and calculated pla
The air was cold, sharper here than it had been on the road. The distant rustle of trees and the faint crunch of gravel underfoot told him they were back—back at the villa, back in the place he had so desperately tried to flee. The realization tightened around his chest like a vice.Rough hands yanked him upright, forcing him to stumble forward. He couldn’t see, but he could feel—every tug on his bound limbs, every scrape of dirt and stone beneath his bare feet, every mocking laugh from his captors. They manhandled him without care, each shove and pull stripping away another fragment of his dignity.And yet, amid the chaos, Dean's mind raced. He couldn't stop thinking about what awaited him on the other side of those villa doors. Shawn’s rage, his cold, calculating demeanor, his penchant for turning Dean’s defiance into a lesson… It all loomed over him like an impending storm.But fear wasn’t the only thing brewing in Dean’s heart. There was something else, buried beneath the layers o
That night, Dean leaned against the window of the villa, his gaze sweeping over the endless expanse of forest. A thought, one he had buried for far too long, surged to the forefront of his mind—escape. The idea wasn’t new; it had lingered for weeks, perhaps months. But fear, coupled with the relentless pain his body endured, had always forced him to suppress it. This time, however, was different. A quiet determination began to take root in his chest. He knew that if he stayed, he would only face endless torment. Anger and defiance churned within him, a smoldering ember on the verge of igniting, granting him a rare and precious courage.Over the next few days, Dean began preparing in secret. He packed only the bare essentials: water, clothing, and a few rudimentary bandages—all crammed into a small bag. He had no room for sentiment or hesitation. His singular focus was to leave this place of despair behind, even if it meant pushing his battered body to its breaking point.And then, the
The image of ruthless gangs he had seen on the internet instantly flashed through his mind—lawless groups capable of unspeakable deeds. Among them, the Shark Gang stood out. At this moment, Dean was certain: perhaps the Dragon Gang and Cobra Gang weren’t as savage, but the Shark Gang? They were wild beasts, untamed and without conscience."So, it’s true..." Dean muttered under his breath. His grip on the file tightened, his knuckles turning pale. He could feel the fury welling up inside him, threatening to break free. But he knew better. Letting anger consume him now would only make him an easier pawn for Shawn to manipulate.Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dean forced himself to tamp down the storm within. He turned his attention to the other walls in the room, desperate to uncover more clues—especially about the enigmatic figure Shawn kept mentioning. The mystery gnawed at him like a thorn lodged deep in his mind, sharp and relentless."Even the faintest hint will do..." he whisper
Dean trudged through the villa with heavy steps, his pace deliberated and unhurried. Though places like this no longer fazed him—after all, it wasn’t the first time he had been confined in such surroundings—his sharp eyes still swept over every room with practiced vigilance. He pushed open a door and found himself in a study.However, this study was unlike any he had encountered before. The walls, adorned with nearly bare shelves, held little more than a few ornamental objects and a couple of lifeless potted plants. Dean's brow furrowed slightly as he paced around the room, scanning every corner. Yet, not a single book was in sight.“A study without books?” he murmured, a hint of perplexity in his voice. “Doesn’t this mafia boss like to read?”The thought took him back to the other places he’d been held, where the captors were eager to flaunt their cultivated tastes. Lavish rooms often boasted rare art pieces or collections of antique tomes, designed more to impress than to be used. T
The question was more rhetorical than genuine—Dean already had a good idea. A secluded location like this could only serve as a front for illicit activities. Yet, something compelled him to ask. To his surprise, this seemingly straightforward inquiry yielded an unexpected clue.Shawn leaned casually against the wall, the faint jingle of keys in his hand punctuating the stillness. His tone carried a strange mix of nonchalance and sentimentality. “This?” he said, glancing around as if seeing the place anew. “This is a villa I gave to that person.”Dean’s attention sharpened instantly, though his expression remained carefully neutral. Shawn’s words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Who was this person? And why had they been significant enough to warrant such a gift from someone like Shawn?Dean paused for a moment, his mind churning with questions. “That person?” he thought. He didn’t press, choosing instead to remain silent, waiting for Shawn to elaborate.Shawn glanced
Shawn halted in his tracks, a cold sneer curling his lips as mockery gleamed in his eyes. “Oh, so you do care about your friend, huh?” he drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “I ask you to recall certain things, and you respond by bringing up your friend?” His tone was sharp, taunting, as though Dean's question was beneath his notice.Dean clenched his teeth, swallowing the surge of frustration and despair. He knew all too well that in his current state, he had no leverage, no cards to play. Yet, desperation outweighed pride as he pressed on, his voice trembling with plea, “Please… just tell me…”To Dean, this wasn’t merely about a friend. It was about Damon, Chen, and Leo—three people who stood among the precious few he could trust, the pillars of strength in his life. He couldn’t just sit here, powerless and in the dark, while their fates hung by a thread."I could tell you," Shawn murmured, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low, insidious tone that coiled around Dean li
The relentless torment had pushed Dean’s mind to the brink of collapse. His strength was rapidly draining, every fiber of his being crying out for respite. Yet he knew, deep down, that if he didn’t act now, he would perish in vain.As Shawn yanked his head out of the water once more, Dean seized the fleeting moment. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he wrenched free from the hand that had clamped down on him like a vice. He crumpled onto the poolside, collapsing against the cold, hard surface, his chest heaving with desperate gasps for air. Wet strands of hair clung to his face as he lowered his head, his voice raspy and exhausted."I can’t remember..." he croaked, the words carrying a note of raw despair. "No matter how hard you push me, it won’t change a thing."Shawn stared at him, the fury on his face giving way to a cold, mocking smile. Slowly, he crouched down, raising a hand to slap Dean’s face lightly. Each tap was deliberate as if savoring the moment. His voice, lo