That day, Huron and the guards were still busy searching for Alvaro. By evening, there was still no sign of him.
Huron began to worry and deployed more guards.
Meanwhile, the person they were looking for was fighting for his life. It wasn't exactly a life-or-death emergency, but it was filled with emotional turmoil.
His body was weak. Even if he wanted to scream, he couldn't. Sweat drenched his entire body, making the ropes around his hands and feet feel even more torturous. His chest rose and fell slowly, his stomach muscles tight from being pulled in all four directions.
"He's exhausted. You'll kill him," said the figure sitting calmly behind the desk, surrounded by boxes of colorful candies. The man in glasses didn't take his eyes off the book and pen in front of him.
The room was dark, lit only by the dim glow of candles, but the man could still sit there writing for hours without being disturbed by the sounds around him.
