Melvin gave a sarcastic laugh.
This was a so-called right to choose. In fact, there was no choice.
Because of the long hours of standing, the wound on his waist opened up and blood gurgled out of it, making him dizzy with pain.
The innermost white shirt was stained and stuck uncomfortably to the wound.
Luckily, with the black blazer covering it, Lyra didn't even notice.
He compressed his thin lips and tried to smooth out his breathing so that no one could see the difference.
Okay, it was only one year. He can afford it!
He picked up the syringe, pulled his shirt sleeves up, aimed it at his arm, and injected it in hard as if he was venting.
Lyra watched without saying a word and frowned when she saw him pushing very hard as if he was abusing himself.
She heard that this would be very painful when injected, and she would like to see how long he can be proud.
But in a few seconds, the drug directly went into his arm.
Snap --
It was the sound of a syringe falling to the floor.
Melvin pressed his lips, biting his lower lip which caused a row of blood marks. A strong sense of pain rushed into the whole body. His forehead soon oozed with cold sweat.
There was no part of his body that did not hurt, plus there was already a back injury. The fatal pain lasted for nearly two minutes before it slowly abated.
However, this was followed by a sense of powerlessness.
He was so powerless that he couldn't even stand, falling to the ground as soft as a leaf in the wind.
There was also a momentary buzzing in the ears when his eyes closed.
As soon as the buzzing sensation ended, the woman's clear and nice voice drilled into his ears.
"When this medicine is first injected, the reaction will be stronger, so you should be more careful."
Melvin lowered his head feebly, and his thin, bleached lips pursed.
When he closed his eyes, his long eyelashes trembled slightly, as if he was suffering from some great pain.
It was hard to ease up a bit. He heard a sound of high heels, from far and near.
Lyra looked at him twice in a condescending manner, then knelt down and forced his chin up to let her observe him carefully.
Unlike his dominant look in the past, at this moment his face was handsome but wan miserably. His sickly look made one want to bully him.
And when he opened his eyes slightly, there was a trace of imperceptible vulnerability in his eyes.
It was really rare!
Lyra admired the look of his delicate and sickly beauty, and smiled in satisfaction, "Good boy, call me master."
The mocking words upset Melvin, and a strong sense of humiliation came over him.
He glared at her angrily, used all his strength to break free from her hand, and stubbornly turned his face away.
He looked like an angry tiger.
Lyra stopped at where it should and didn't continue to push him too hard.
He had been proud in the first half of his life. It was normal that he didn’t adapt to it at the moment.
She had to teach him and she had patience.
Lyra got up and left the weakened Melvin on the floor alone, giving him time to adjust to the medication.
She returned to her desk and began working.
Now, in addition to the chores of the Angle Group, she also had to deal with the Freeman group, which she just took over.
By Ashley the scourge, almost half of the Freeman group was ruined so she had to completely replace the core staff.
It was estimated that she had to be busy every day.
It was getting dark outside, and Lyra was busy until 8 p.m.
The office was very quiet except for the sound of her tapping on the keyboard.
She turned off her computer and rubbed the back of her sore neck. Suddenly, she remembered that it had been more than an hour and Melvin hadn't moved.
What was the trick?
She walked around the desk to check. The man was lying on the floor. His long legs slightly curved, and his eyes tightly closed. His eyebrows knitted together, which seemed to sleep with a great deal of pain.
Lyra was a little unconvinced and called out to him twice, "Melvin, stop pretending and get up."
The man's brow knitted tighter, without the slightest reaction.
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