Hwang Jo-yoon struggled, but his limbs were bound so tightly it was impossible to even shift his weight, let alone stand. With every squirm, the acrid smell of fertilizer that clung to the ropes stung his nostrils.
He tried to scream, but the gag muffled the sound into a pathetic whimper. The rough texture of the cloth, a constant presence in his blurring consciousness, made his throat itch. He was going to be sick.
“You did a good job with
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