Who Were the Ingredients?

Fang Shenyan's face darkened instantly. He knew what he had gone through.

That thing on the sixteenth floor had indeed come for him, and in a form he had no way of refusing.

This dead end had already taken shape. There was nowhere to run.

His gaze swept coldly across the kitchen. Without looking back, he turned and left.

The front door stood wide open, only a few steps away, yet without the slightest hesitation, he rushed into the room on the right.

This second bedroom was around twenty square meters. Its decor was no different from the Living Room, stripped down to the extreme.

There was no furniture, let alone a bed.

But what caught Fang Shenyan's eye was a medical stretcher.

This stretcher was far from ordinary. Several restraint straps hung from each side, eight in total, running from head to toe.

It looked less like a stretcher meant to save someone and more like an instrument of torture for imprisoning someone.

Fang Shenyan frowned and suddenly turned his head, a sharp glint bursting from his eyes.

But behind him was nothing but the empty Living Room.

After giving it a cold glance, his expression returned to normal, and he walked straight into the second bedroom.

His palm lightly gripped one of the restraint straps on the medical stretcher. Almost the instant he touched it—

His nerves seemed to spasm. He abruptly shut his eyes and lowered his head.

Countless complex, violent, and dark emotions flooded into his mind.

A man in a Patient Gown was bound by eight restraint straps around his head, hands, legs, and entire body.

He twisted his body wildly, breaking free of the straps again and again, only to fail every time.

His gaunt, sunken face was covered in crimson blood vessels. All