Emilio hesitated. "Don't you need the donor's consent for something like that?"
Ansel let out a cold laugh. "Consent? She's some broke little nobody from the sticks. If I want her kidney, why would I need her permission?"
"Some people are born to be used. A kidney is nothing. If I told her to give me her whole life, she'd do it."
A wave of discomfort rolled through the audience.
Was this really the same Ansel who'd been crying online?
Then Ansel split the cigarette open.
It wasn't tobacco inside.
The chat erupted.
Angel: No way. Is that—?
Noob: Pretty sure the cops are on their way right now.
Fluffy: Addicts can rot.
In the video, Ansel and Emilio and the others indulged like it was a party.
Then the door opened.
A young nurse pushed in a medical cart.
People recognized her immediately.
Jenny.
She wasn't some bombshell, but she had a slim waist, graceful posture—quietly pretty in a way that read as elegant.
Ansel looked at her, eyes glassy, and slurred, "Nurse… you've got a great ass."
Jenny flinched, visibly uneasy. "It's time for your injection and medication."


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