The next second, the plastic tube of the container was already close to his face. Even unwillingly, Irish could only reflexively close his eyes.
Icy liquid splashed against his eyelids, making Irish shudder as a subtle stinging pain spread through him.
Shiho Miyano, seated before him, seemed utterly unsurprised by his reaction. Instead, she pulled the nearby equipment closer with one hand, drew out a syringe and medication, and approached him.
Having seen similar scenes performed on certain test subjects, Irish clenched his teeth and barely suppressed the scream that nearly escaped his throat. His muscles tensed, and he said nothing.
He vaguely understood what Shiho Miyano was doing, especially after Kumeru's face flashed through his mind.
People like Kumeru, controlled by drugs and forced by the Organization to act against their own will, were probably looking forward to hearing an "Organization lapdog" like him cry out in agony right about now.
Irish more or less understood, but he had no strength to resist. Even his will to fight back was weak.
Surviving always required a price. Some things could only be discussed after one stayed alive long enough to qualify for the discussion. Grudges, love, and hatred meant nothing to the dead.
After injecting all the medicine into his body, Shiho Miyano discovered that he unexpectedly did not struggle and raised an eyebrow.
The girl who bore a fifty-percent resemblance to Tang Ze Zhao wore such a teasing, appraising expression that it was hard not to feel as though Kumeru were standing there too.
"It looks like you know what I intend to do. You're not as ignorant as you claim to be." With her hands folded over her knees, Shiho Miyano gave him an amused yet mocking smile. "You were so confident about taking Kudo back. Don't tell