The doctor rushed over with gauze and tools to quickly bandage my wound. Vincent stood aside and ordered sharply, “Give him a heart stimulant and a clotting shot. Do whatever it takes. Keep him alive!”
“Captain Newton, that dose is too high; it could seriously harm his nerves,” the doctor said, hesitating.
“Damage?” Vincent sneered. “Trash like him doesn’t matter. As long as he stays alive until we find the truth, even if he ends up brain‑dead, I don’t care!”
The doctor didn’t argue, took a syringe, drew the drug and injected it into my vein. The drug flowed through my veins, quickly reaching my whole body.
My heart raced, my muscles stiffened and I struggled to breathe. The bailiffs helped me back into the chair.
The gauze on my neck soaked up blood again, but the drug kept me alive; I couldn’t even faint.
“Keep extracting!” Vincent ordered the technicians coldly.
The technician nodded and restarted the machine. The metal connector felt like a sharp thorn in my head, buzzing as the machine ran.
I could feel a cold force invading my mind, pulling at my memories and trying to take the buried pieces. I fought with all my strength. I couldn’t let it win.